Lyrics:
the pot, crank up the notch
Burn the song from a stove top, this finger-lickin' hot
His bitch flip 'cause the nigga flopped
My shit hit like the pitch was
my squad
Don't tweak with my squad
Lil nigga, lil nigga
Lil nigga, lil nigga
Let's get it!
It look bad for a nigga, funeral set up, it look sad
roof
Even once had a job pouring tar up on a roof
That boy had it hard no facade its the truth
So now when I Menage and get massaged its the proof
Proofs
and flip the script, and got the world start screamin' our names
Ying Yang in this thang and its evident
(You dont really like us nigga?) You irrelevent
We
She jumped in my truck in her bare feet
Slid on over to the middle seat
Baby crack a window,
Crank that AC, high as it can go
Sign at the bank says
they shook out
Get the book out and when the pitch come, nigga, look out
It ain't hard to pump up the lil' homies, nigga
But it's hard for your
want dat pussy if it smell like tuna
Thought it was sweet till I turned up and crank bitch
Big cuban round my wrist clink clink bitch
Hit a lick then I
The young king, the lil homie Tyga
It's yo turn, nigga, it's yo turn, playboy
West Coast stand up to this Careless World, people
Global flying
love
But only if it's with you
Let's crash a wedding tonight, get drunk by the lights
Then I'll pick a fight to make up on the floor of your room
[Chorus: Gucci Mane (Lil Scrappy): x2]
I rob in my black tee
Hit licks in my black tee
All in ya house searching for bricks in my black tee (Crank
coming up
I still let her flip my numbers 'cause It's Rummikub
Shout my lil' bitch in the Bay, wait
Shout my lil' bitch in the state, yeah
Down by
Oh oh oh oh
it's Hell down here
And we've got to make a change
It's Hell tryin to do right
By everyone you know
No matter how hard you try lil
DJ Khaled
DJ Terror Squad
And he goes by the name of
You got the right one, it's Weezy fuckin' baby
And if your woman lookin', I'll let
deserve to get throwed, throwed
Well I came in the door, I said it befo'
I never fuck a hoe without head no more
I never pull up in nothin' less than
keep a "blucka-blucka"
Hit 'em all week
Give me the keys to the bubble
I'm on y'all street
And watch it go up in flames boy
Blow up tha game boy throw up
rangin'
They make it they take it, they flip it they whip it they get paid
You name it they cock it they aim it, they bangin' the stage
Lil Jizza 'n
you douche bags feel knowing you're disposable?
Summers Eve, Massengill
Shady's got the mass appeal, baby, crank the shit
'Cause it's your goddamn
You was so wack, I don't wanna hear your mixtape
His diamonds so wet, he got it out the fish tank
I swear all I do is crank like I never think
I
Hey you were standing by the screen door slamming
Rather clear what's taking place
You were holding on to Louie, he was packing, he was heavy
That
me straight
Trying to flip these 50 plates
It's time to flip these 50 plates
This little jewel gonna set me straight
This little jewel gonna set me
Twenty years ago I watched in awe
As my Dad drove up the driveway.
More than proud to have a brand new family car.
Thirty miles to the gallon
0
up to something
Selling cracks sack by sack so they could function?
Well, yes and no
Yes we were selling it
But no, it wasn't blow
Cook it in
fill this shit up
Came from the hood so I don't give no fucks
You can't see that I got it but it's tucked
You wanna gamble nigga, try your luck
Shootin'
nigga seen this fire and then he tried to dip (dip)
We gon' pull up at your mama house and let it rip (rip)
Like 4th of July, nigga, we gon' light up
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