Lyrics:
don't stop 'til I'm popped by the cops
Yeah I'm on your block with a motherfuckin' Glock
Extended fucking stock with a laser fuckin' swap
Hop out the whip
This money controlling me
Tell your girl stop phoning me
Played the hand I was dealt
All in I'm supposed to be
Phone jinking
So distant
Social
by a scale and everybody know it (know it)
I hate it when a pretty girl start snoring (stop that shit)
Lookin' in the mirror like, "you a lucky man"
You're wearing anti social social club
It's fitting cause' you never really talk too much
And you're always putting up a front
You act like nothing
Issue 1 May 1930 by W Kramer
This is Trans-Ball
A few months ago I strolled through the streets of Berlin
I strolled through the streets and looked
lies
Pretty little lies
How they take me by surprise
How they take me by surprise
Pretty little lies how you tell them all the time
And you still play
swerving by my lonely, got the bag, I had to run it up (skkrrrt)
I always been the type to shred yo shit, I never gave a fuck
If I ever shed a tear, I’ll
Hitting up the Breakfast Club talking mad shit
In the back his mind, he's wild nervous and shit
The record label guaranteeing his protections
Followed by
combined a man with a hog
Then they sewed on the dick of a dog
Good with a club, but not a great shot...
I guess even hell needs a cop...
Renegade cops who
na na na
waiting on the flash throwing money at the cameras
twin turps out speedin with scanners
brezze past the cops screamin na na na
we gettin
Yeah
Alot of times we surrounded by enemies who disguise as friends you know
You know you niggas
We just didn't wanna tell it straight to your face
Yeah
We at the club
Things happened you know (haha)
Youngwiz
I took molly and I love it
I was in a higher field
Stole more than hundred
love the thrill
Club jumpin over here
So get it in
Twenty twin twin
Know what it is
Me and henney friends
XO Paradise
On the rocks
No telling
Social Club be them good fellas
Wanna be a baller
Shot caller
Who greater
Cooling back in '01,
high school mac was so fun,
Is it weird
it's been a few
popping like the champagne
So let's go and raise our glass up for a toast
Surrounded by the people that contributed the most
I'm really feeling social going
Riggins, oh no!
Manager leaves, he let me cop from the low lows
Slacks and polos, you better watch that
Boy in durangos, blazer, and mock neck
Almost
...Now if this records is being played a a club, disco, lounge, house
basement, or block party, car stereo, stoop, or at any other social
gathering, we
Beep
...Now if this records is being played a a club, disco, lounge, house
Basement, or block party, car stereo, stoop, or at any other social
Let's go
I go by "Weezy, the Don"
Magnificent nigga, lot of ice around my neck, and freezin' the arm
And if a nigga decide to test, their chest get
poppin the glock
And the cop tails for the guerillas on the block
For skinny niggaz like myself, artillery shops as well, yeah
[Bizzy Bone]
(You think I
you lived by the gun? (Ahh)
We slide through Phoenix
More than the Suns (Ahh)
Kay Kay here with me (Kay Kay)
Put her hair in a bun (Kay Kay)
Five, four,
at the cameras
Twin turbs out speeding with the scanners
Breeze past the cops screaming na, na, na, na, na, na
We getting money like na, na, na, na, na, na
[Chamillionaire]
No spending ends, in gentlemen's
Strip clubs, it's just for spinning rims
I want it now, I get it then
Cop it drop it, cop it again
Not him
pumps poisonous blood, your choice, the slugs
You do dirt in the rain, than your name is mud
Major love to thugs in the back of the clubs
Strapped for
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