Lyrics:
you got me curious, you probably look better when you dead
Nine by the spine, fifth in the holst'
Scum bag, it's them D-Block boys, Daddy, Kiss
Yeaaa i get an check more than 4 figures (4 Figures) ruga by side me a whole killer (Whole killer)
Living an life like dope dealer (Dope dealer) We
yo' hallway (Bang bang)
Bitch, I'm a menace to society what
The judge just told me (Sosa baby)
And I don't fuck with y'all, boy
All I smoke is OJ (Dope
know act like you know
Yah heard me You understand me
Ya dig
You know
You know you know you know you know you know you know that it’s dope
dat boy packin all sht
I be ballin on these bitches
Ion really like to flaunt
He heard my pimpin was official now he want me put em on
I sell dope
place
If you want another reason why it must be funky
Yo I am not a jackass meaning not a donkey
So I will play the game like it should be played
nose
Ain't got no bands i'm broke as fuck
Lickin' dope up off the pan by the gram
Pop them xans
Five middle fingers on my motherfuckin' hand
Know some
Finna pop up
Like janets tit
I'm dope like coke
Come get a quick fix
Call a plumber in yo block
I'm the shit
I'm fresh to death
Like i just died my nigga
I got jet lag
I just fucked and sent her home told her buy a cab
Smoking dope by the pound this is real thrax
What
What
What
What
I just took this
Aye
Lil' Haitian Gotti Like that there, yeah yeah
Haha
I got them, mmm
I ain’t regular, bitch I’m steppin up, with the weapon tucked (I’m a special
La La La La La Off MTV
La La La La La When you gonna go out with Me
Brains, power and muscle like Dame, Puffy and Russell
Your boy back on his
take it
Boy I'll turn ya' to a raisin
Just to bring home the bacon
For me to see heaven I would need to meet Satan
So my heart so vacant
My mind's
in the hallway with her arms crossed
Baby boy face full of applesauce
Maybe should have stayed but it ain't yo fault
Too much pressure, I peel off,
in the hallway with her arms crossed
Baby boy face full of applesauce
Maybe should have stayed but it ain't yo fault
Too much pressure, I peel off,
mac, niggas always jack, especially when they lack, you gone die by my hands, You gone die with yo mans,
ccog for the fukkin scope, aimin for his
Damn, shit fucked up I'm like, why?
World fucked up I'm like, why?
Hoes actin' dumb, I'm like why? Fuck em
B-B-Big Los on the track boy
Why these
the police when I'm rolling through the projects
My pants sag so I'm labeled as a suspect
Who be the boys in blue, the authority
To arrest me cause I
why I’m beefing with these boys they don’t get no cash
From that million dollar block
You spoiled wit yo b*tch Ass
Dior to the floor ain’t no more poor
Ya played with the Lil' Ya now ya takin' yo last breath
Pop 'Em Up, Pop 'Em Up
Watch 'em bleed to death
Ya played with the Yella Boy now ya
hanging by a fucking thread
Keeping that chop
On me
Sending em shots
For free
I'm at yo house with my feet on yo couch
Stealing yo grandma morphine
Spin yo
crack
Hard or soft livin' boys and girls packin' yo shit
Let it off
Niggaz who floss out here be takin' a loss
It cost to be the mutha fuckin'
greasy
If I'm wasting ya time bitch leave me
Smoke hella dope just to ease me
Im high asf boy I'm wea da bees be
In my own lane like mike Beasley
Need
take it
Boy I'll turn ya' to a raisin
Just to bring home the bacon
For me to see heaven I would need to meet Satan
So my heart so vacant
My mind's
label
(in collaboration with DJ Khaled, DJ Pharris
And the producer Hit Boy) predictably
The pharmaceutical combine Novartis
Objected to
The title
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