Lyrics:
and hookin', finessin'
Run up get done up, I keep me a weapon
You can get killed right by 7 11
You can get killed at like 7:11
Takin' my time countin' all
am too rich to be caught in the mix
Forgi' lift it, baby, blow 'em a kiss
Put on a fit, copy my drip
Thirty-round clip, Glock with the switch
they change over dollar signs
Bad hoes, lit hoes they all set you up Quick 2 bowls 4 bowls
I promise this a big dip like gymnastics boy I really made
All the boys on the right give it up this time.
All the girls on the left give it up this time.
'Cause all the boys on the right want to check you out.
doubt
Aha, see what you want baby?
Check it out! One-two for my peeps like this, check it out
To the, aah, tick tick, my clique is mad thick so don't
blue pee
And my girls be half naked like Betty Boop be
Like a hoopty
Man, the boy been riding
And I ain't gassed up, cause I'm more like a hybrid
In my heart I know it's a little boy
Hope he don't end up like me
Well, the man's still grinnin' says he lost my file
I gotta stand in line again
weed cause I can
Not make my mind up
Move like that ass on fire
On tha real got you shakin like a wire
Smoke it by the ounce and I buy it by The pound
[Missy]
This is for my ghetto motherfuckers
Uh hey
Are you really a hot boy
Oh check me
[Verse One]
What's your name, cause I'm impressed
Can you
Ayy
Ka deina baby no de play me
Uhhm
Corona i wan see my baby
Unruly
Baby boy I always ride around With a tooly
It's on me
Everybody knows that I'm with
and pay the rent
Professional crackslanger I serve fiends
I once went to jail for having rocks up in my jeans
But nowadays I be too smart for
wise guy
Military minding, front lining, all up for a drive by
Case over like the last don, like all the cash gone
Answer wrong, cause I'm
her count it up
Baby what the hell you mean it ain't adding up
If a nigga try to short me then we pulling up
Got the money in bag
Got the glicky by
watch her count it up
Baby what the hell you mean it ain't adding up
If a nigga try to short me then we pulling up
Got the money in bag
Got
Check my baby mamma
(Shine) - Whip Rovers, not Hondas
(Shine) - I'ma spend it 'til it's gone
(Shine) - Don't know when I'm comin home
(Shine) - Pop X
the 50 cent cocoa
Ice, ice, me baby
Cause the Black Sheep Dres be up on the scene
Let the top down, turn up the sound
Got my hands in the air
Cause my
trail back in Jersey in my condo
You can run up like you're Rambo
But you better hit me, nigga, if you know what I know
'Cause I got some super-size
trail back in Jersey in my condo
You can run up like you're Rambo
But you better hit me, nigga, if you know what I know
'Cause I got some super-size
of trappin'
Baby boy, I get it crackin'
Get ya head busted, get ya face smacked in
Ya boy so hood, my old lady packin'
Anyway, back to that trap, I ain't
little boy look just like me
I ain't tryna be what ya like, no I'm not (I'm talkin' bout whip gun)
Pull up with that nigga bitch in the car
Now her baby
little boy look just like me
I ain't tryna be what ya like, no I'm not (I'm talkin' bout whip gun)
Pull up with that nigga bitch in the car
Now her baby
on the radio
I don't even like to fuck, I only want fellatio
I done jumped out to that bag, baby check my swag
Money fallin' out my ass, I got a lot of cash
Don’t ever try to call me Uncle Tom because I wear the hat
Check the stats
You can’t even ball with me lil boy that’s facts
Where you at
Told em pull
Plus my stove games up no red meat
But having you in my cypher right now
Makes me feel complete
Like a bay going night night suckin' on his baby
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