Lyrics:
here
Oh and my girl better than ever, she too wish you was here
You know I'm grown now, so I'm putting food on the table
24 years old and I got my own
you
Mean? She shouts it out all of the time"
Y'all don't want me to rep
Y'all y'all don't hear when
I rep y'all cause y'all
Be dick-riding everybody
that's how
Cool it looks on her
I mean she's fine as hell
I'd definitely hit it!
Still Got It!
Shot hoops with Al in the yard i
Sucked he was much better
on-and-and-on-and-on-on-and-on
Like a hot buttered pop-da-pop-da-pop, dibbie dibbie
Pop-da-pop-pop, you don't dare stop
Come alive, y'all, gimme whatcha got
I guess by now
stacked like 4 midgets
Got a camel toe then you know she a pigeon
Got a lot of hoes and my sack be religious
Go down real low and I might just kiss her
Hit
say I don't respect these women
When all I've done is represent (30 years)
Take my career and turn it upside down
'Cause you mad I've got some
they hoe hype stand on the block all day
Long police mad, can't stand my bitch game plan
Slick with her should I love money making bitch
She got
hugged her up
What the fuck is up?
She got you whipped, got your kids
Got your home, but that's not your bitch
You share that girl, don't let 'em hear
down
Papoose got got a edge up wearin' the fitted
Still, to this day, I just don't get it
Like why the fuck you ain't
Take off the fitted?
What the fuck
to a nigga
One time for my LA sisters
One time for my LA hoes
Lame niggas can't tell the difference
One time for a nigga who knows
Don't save her, she
the treble, two for the bass
She's got nut all over her face
Kick kick it
Slow is the tempo, and Ren is gonna flow
As I produce and illustrate you to a ho'
the microphone
When I met Joan, I took her home
She was just like a doggy all on my bone
I met another girl, her name was Ann
All she wanted was to freak with
Hooo! Hooooooo! Well well well yeah
There's this girl, and, I see her every day
But she don't know me
(She don't know my name)
And it ain't all that
Intro:
Here comes international Grime artist, Eyez,
It’s Eyez, man
I don’t box like Dillian Whyte
But I’ve got boxes if you’re dealing with white
I'm drinking that George Jones
Chase it down with a Wynette song
Burn a little Willie Nelson all night long
Putting Ol' Waylon on
I'm going to get all
am
Being attacked by your accusations simply
Because i got us
In court to help fix this the custody matter?
Why did i have to take you to court to see
kinda like George Strait, so I probably fucked all your exes
She bopping and serving
I'm puffing and swerving
And turning the wheel on her Lexus
We
beat you don't
Dance to that beat, You dance
To what George sings, okay? The
Little ones, okay? The little quick
Ones, okay? Ready? George, make them
the radio
Don't mind me, I'm just getting country twisted
I got Jones to the left of me and Cash to the right
We got good ole' George shooting Strait tonight
keep the work under the seat
She do it for me take a trip to port her off to the beach
Tell her homie hold it down cause we hustle to eat
And got
mama, mama, that's all
And by the time I get to Oklahoma, she'll be sleeping
She'll turn softly in her restless sleep, call my name out low
And oh,
All this joking aside
I thought that you should know, well, Ms. Jones was spotted nearby
Her motives unclear
However, we have reasons to fear she may
throat and
Told her it was a taste test and
Take a deep throat so she wouldn't have to waste breath
I mean they fucked her and stuck her
I said man fuck
the 80's
I got coke like the 80's, in my coke white Mercedes
My new bitch, she a waitress, strip club is a trap
Stick my dick in her pussy when she come sit
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