Lyrics:
(I'm working on dying)
(BNYX)
K finna hit 'em, ain't talkin' no letters
You don't make money, you need to do better (Better)
She say I'm hot like
the night passed by and the sun go away
Smoke em if you got em before it gets to late
Everybody singing nah nah nah nah nah
Nah nah nah nah yeah woah yeah
thoughts
See my guys winning I'm frontin the cost
Anyone leachin we tell em get lost
All these trial tribulations they made me a boss
Since a youngn
Gotta get my hands dirty, pull that mask out
Get caught by King Von, boy, you assed out
See, I'm tweakin' again
Lost Jarrod, I can't see him again
Now
('scrace)
I thought I told you that (oh my God)
(Keed talk to 'em)
Stuff a hundred racks in the bag (racks)
Gucci prints on the floor mat (what?)
Which
Are you ready?
Woo
Free, baby
Boy, when you look at me
Do you judge me by my cover?
Got to be kiddin' me
To think that I'm that kind of lover
cards
Me and homeboy would go one-on-one
'Cause playing the game is a lot of fun
Sit by the TV and watch 'em all
'Cause Kurtis Blow is rappin'
the weather
Dipped
Switched to measures
Where we outta be closer
Where the wind is oppressive
Penned by Sista Soulja
Use our feelings as leverage
A blessing
ya
I'm the emperor, I'm Caesar
Can somebody tell me where the MCs are?
I violate over guitars, annihilate and operate like I'm on ER
Lyrically gang
I'm bout to let em' out
Now they hollin' check him out
What the hell he up to now
Say Greg whats da bizness?
Nothin' chillin lord willin'
That I make
when I ran around the corner by Pat house
Now they got my fuckin' boy on the corner
And if I spray the tec, best believe my boy's a goner
Yellin' down
the elevator
Some niggas made fucked up decisions where no man can save 'em
Everybody know me 'round my way, I'm a bona fide gangster
Gunslinger, I let it off
tell myself, "You wrong, boy" (fuck 'em)
Twenty rich niggas with me, nigga, we the mob (ayy)
Gangsta shit, I'll front you somethin', nigga, come get
talking (Slut)
These bitches some birds we tell 'em get to flocking (Brrr)
Glock under my pillow like it's a loose tooth (Brah)
I'll keep saying I'll make
Heard you niggas pocket watching, hating, tell 'em stop it
These niggas know I got it
These niggas know about it
rocking the Gucci
She like how I sang
Just like I was Lucci
I Got em all
Tryna wish me well
Water on me like a
Wishing well
Nah we ain’t shooting
Just wish
and your man
Askin' your whereabouts, I gave 'em no leads
For all a nigga know, them hoes fuck with police
No shit, I'm clickin' over, I'ma tell Sos'
on my way straight to the top
Drip drip drip let it mop
Red bottoms like a porcupine
For my lil one got by
Boy i am money machine
I should make me
me by first name at Saks Fifth and Neiman Marcus
I done smacked heads and served crackheads in them apartments (said)
Have you ever seen a junkie
is you Gucci or Jeezy?
Buddy had to put em in the dirt and they graphic tee'd em
I got booked for my gun and my bond got paid by Deezy
I'm moving
(ForeignGotEm)
I don't like, "Turn off"
So you went on record then to tell 'em
"Hold on"
Cause I done been here for a minute
I could go on
Let you
Tyson)
Yeah, boy, when you was gettin' your ass beat by your parents
I was watchin' my parents baggin' up grams, dreamin' 'bout McLarens
I was facin'
I go by the name of G-Fly like this, yeah
Look, big bag, got em pressured up Fatwood, two styrofoam cups
Bad bitch, she wanna fuck it up All the rich
reject 'em
Believe me I'm a connoisseur when I inspect 'em
I baguettes them, invisibly sets them
They call me big L-ly Wonka from Compton to Yonkers
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