Lyrics:
keep it lowkey
In the club fifty deep
Everybody got it on 'em
With a real bad bitch and she
Came in with a partner
I'm in love with stripper hoes but
Cent
We got it out the mud
That's how i know it's meant
But if it nevers happens
Will you be satisfied
With your beautiful children
& your gorgeous wife
Once your gone
Your gone
Life by the way
Sent a message
In a song
To all that can hear
Got an answer
In a box
Its nice
But not clear
And then I came
when I pose
Parking lot pimpin'
Getting chose by the hoes
Ugh, yeah, this shit go stupid
It's Big Spence, bitch
And I'm here going Cupid
Shooting up
I cheat but I'm a boss, no gaggin'
Fifty shots in MAC 10's, you run then you get clapped then
I'm a fuckin star my team be ridin' in Aston's
And if
bro got aim spot up like Klay
Knife to the face but the drum got a fifty
Make his head drop I ain't showing no pity
Bae a little freak and her motives
a stewardess, like ooh ooh
Ready for war like a machine
Came from pillies to post schemin'
Now I got fifty hoes on they knees
I put X in my codeine
But I
wrist
out Plain Cartier, I didn't get it bust
Got like fifty hoes on a party bus I was kicking doors, they look around for us
Wipe his nose slimy
got em Damn things change, I came from the bottom
Ministry with the heat, we not them Drop an opp same spot, I spot them
Fuck on hoes that look like
leave my driveway
Got yo girl tip-toeing on my marble floors
Sitting by the pool, jumping off the diving board
Getting to the money I'mma need a money
down
Self-control really got me hurtin now
Don't judge one by the cover
You never took a step in their shoes
I'm still a caged nigga
Never lost in
nigga, you got yo ass kicked
I was a curious child
I used to hang out by the ballroom and study the gangsta style
The way they talk, the way they walk,
favorite rapper, dude, you know she likes a pretty gent
You love when my shit drop 'cause I got more game than 50 cent
Don't ask me where I been; I know I
missing
Woosh, pack gone missing
Huh, huh, huh, gone!
Got so many hoes on my
Line you think I'm fishing
She might be your girl
Turn around that thing gone
in work all day you know them man be stupid
Who got the Magic stick
I make the Hand thing beat
Them boy you know
Who got the Magic stick
I make
Yeah
I ain't got no time for bullshit
If you want some smoke
Then you catch a full clip
Yeah
Fake hoes I can not fool wit
Finesse kid nigga
Who
'm a motherfuckin' gangster
I got fifty racks right now (right now, right now)
A couple killers in the back right left
New Double R, grippin' my banger
Countin' up
Me and my brothers
We ride for each other
I copped me a Honda
We on one accord
I'm rare like a Fisker
Got em calling me mister
I show her some things
we treat them hoes?
Dirt
I've gone through life pretending
That time will change the ending
But those mistakes behind me
Cast shadows to remind
with 50 hoes in one year
I wanted to be loved
But I was to scared yeah I was in fear
I met you, out of nothing
With no intentions of love
But as closer
it if I give em what They ask fo
I'm surrounded by da yammas killers And da jack boys
Risk it everyday wat u kno bout Gettin bamped homie
Scatpack
weed!
Bitch got a pretty lil face
Still drink my seed
Imma slide by myself ion need no team
Nigga how I'm bussin them traps
Ain't got no V, yeah yeah!
got a band
Got a number for a name
No name on the visa, no card get accepted
Now I'm forced to a man
Murder raps, where you from?
Put the nigga
a couple checks, tell the people how we'll be comin
Cause I got one, two bros that I'm dyin' for
I got three, four hoes that just wanna bone
Right, record
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