Lyrics:
never snitch live by the code
Money coming in it's by the load
Got so many bitches I'm like inny miney moe
I go through so much and never get no time
for
A visa and some mentos
And then I gotta G.O
On to the next
Bout to go pick me up a check
My neighbor call for some adderall’s
Hold on I be there in
stick to the road
If you want to make it through you got to stick to the code
I can never trust a hoe
Got snaked by my bro
Thought I didn’t know
Tried
Bitch call me up I told her hoe don't call my phone
Uh let it breath real quick
I'm so blessed
Praise the most high you know what it is
Uh
Feeling cold
printed outta plastic
I'm made from G code
In da fifth dimension
With my mental actions
One life no reload
Only psycho bitches
Wanna fuck the goat
I'm no
phone let me get right
G-G-Gambling my life with your lil lies
I don't give a shit but it seems right
Shawty i'll be gone by the midnight
So hit me on my
protection
But the night before, my wiz must of check my phone
How the fuck she get the codes, I don't know
Next thing, she laying in the hotel lobby,
respect the G-Code
G-Code!
G-Code!
Still racial casualties
Rooted not your average tree
In public don't embarrass me
Eatin cause I have the greed
Shitted
White chalk your ass
Let them folks outline you
Getting to them racks
Sticking to the G code
Get up out the streets
All you niggas do is fold
Sitting back
Fuck what you heard and fuck what you think
I'm handing out checks, I run out of ink
She hittin' my phone, so we gonna link
Baby a bad one, ass fat in
ass licked
Leave your number by the phone, bring yo' ass on home
I roam in Lexuses and Benzes, the fly way
With the flyest bitch gettin head
yo fuckin lip up
'cause money and murder is the code that I live by
Come to ya set and do a muthafuckin walk by
Deep in the game preparing for
killas snowed in on them skis
I be a g fuck with them b's and c's my niggas be popping them p's
Don't make me squeeze please you up on a shirt my niggas
I crawl like a cold corpse, drink promethazine My sport is intercourse, check the fucking
Record, G, Slide inside an apartment, I'm in New Orleans
featuring Blake see Jay Z Mr. Bristal
[Blake C]
What you sayin'?
Roc A Fella (uh huh)
Gener al (uh huh)
B.I.G. (right on)
ain't
Cause all I got on me is a big fat bank
And I hope I don't get robbed by you know who
Make me donate some G's to the boys in blue
And if I sue,
[G-Dep Talking]
Come here man, You lookin for beef [smacking sound]
Get the fuck over, yea
You thought I wasn't, yea hehehehe
Yea look at me,
Nothin
Less Y'all don't fuck With Chess, so you Stuck
Up a check yeah, I was Cookin' crack, you was Suckin
A breast Half rack, get You clapped, I get it
yearly wage, I got his monthly wage in my jeans
Safe to say I get paid but I just can't say the same for these neeks
Still no chain on my neck, G, I just
to hit a lick
I don't have to even make a phone cal to get a brick
Ya find lieutenant on ya Sidewalk Two
At code fo'-twenty-'fo, he know just what to do
They ain't fuck with my when I was all by my lonely, locked down on Carl Griffin
You broke the code, you put a dollar before me, we from the projects,
give me my money bring it by the luggage
We tryna run up a check
Money and power respect
I keep my foot on they neck
Mansion the rover the jet
We tryna
them boys we slidin' like creeps)
See who I'm with, call em' my g's
Come to the block, throwin' up L's
Raisin' up hell, b.a.m, by any means (grahh)
Got
you was breakdancin see
I remember when you had tight pants G
So Mr. Rap Critic when you trys to check me
about my cars and my girls, claimin you never
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