Lyrics:
like
Ba-da-da-da-da-da-da couple of bullets are comin' your way then it jam
Like god damn
Then I pick up somethin' quicker, start killin' everything
change shit up
Can't console shit when the game went up
Boy i really hate saks 5th, I'm a star and in the making you a asterisk
Bitch a bag getter, you
and the endo sack, make me slack?
Cock tailed or V'd up, gettin' swiss cheesed up
Please don't blow my high
(blow my high)
When I'm sippin' that purple
put up niggas
Is it cause I bust wit stuff that just shut up niggas
Flow like dro, I pull then clip it or mix it wit some moet then sip it
Then turn
Heard you ain't recognized
Its been a long time ya prime
Thought you white wine but you was all kinds
Pick you up in my whip and by your hips
Staring
Meech
I'ma give it to you, how you want it?
In the jungle getting money
Smoking L's by the hundreds
We got blow, we got molly
We got blood
Ok, let me rip it then, lemme go spin the benz
With this flow I feel heaven sent
On these beats we be killing them
I feel like 50 Cent, I'm
I tell em, I say
One yourself when 2 niggas run up with 3 gats
A four, five, six shots
Seven like eight claps
Da nine milli throw ten shots
Where ya
get your ass kicked
Worse than them little Limp Bizkit bastards
And Moby? You can get stomped by Obie
You thirty six year old bald headed fag, blow
they threw on my name
Turned to soil and I grew up out it
Time for y'all to figure out what y'all gon' do about it
Big wheels keep rollin', rollin'
on my name
Turned to soil and I grew up out it
Time for y'all to figure out what y'all gon' do about it
Big wheels keep rollin', rollin'
I'm
up, gon' climb on it
Blew 100 then I blew another 5 on it
We gettin' bread by the stacks
Blow a mil, make it back (truuuu)
Pretty boy Floyd with
choked
He's so mad, but he won't give up that easy, no
He won't have it, he knows his whole back's to these ropes
It don't matter, he's dope, he knows
choked
He's so mad, but he won't give up that easy, no
He won't have it, he knows his whole back's to these ropes
It don't matter, he's dope, he knows
life
Man, I'm just tryna live life
Everybody got they two cent for me
But don't ever wanna do shit for me
Y'all can keep yo' change
Coming up from
to fold my beard
Check one, two, Sonny, tell Bob to dim the lights up
You see the studs, I want the red strobe to hit it right
Stones are screaming, hot
Memphis what's hattn
West Memphis what's popping
Gary Indiana what it got goin baby
Cleveland Mississippi Come on Macon Georgia
Mane we all up through
the heat
I don't take it to the heart
I be showing love for free
By design, this is art
High and low I keep it G
Been that way from the start
I hang
get your ass kicked
Worse than them little Limp Bizkit bastards
And Moby? You can get stomped by Obie
You thirty six year old bald headed fag, blow
train to blow
Just LA said
It was me and bro we was at the store
Me and bro got 50 cent cakes
By the way that I'm bussing they think I'm the lakes
Left
on the third
Then I'll be rich bitch
And I got money to burn yeah
I'm rich bitch and I got my money to burn
Ima blow it all tomorrow find me I'm out on the curb
rizzle dizzle dazzle, tears up the band like ?
I blows with my flows bust your nose kick the ass of pros
who ain't, got the how-knows, to make
get it cut up
I speak on behalf of them broads you call stuck up
Act like a man and get cocked, smacked or fucked up
Pull the truck up, Luck you know
of the calm, the witty
Yo shut the fuck up!
Luck said shut the fuck up!
Bitches in the back, like crack get it cut up
I speak on behalf of them broads you
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