Lyrics:
CRASHING AT THE PRINCIPAL HOUSE
WE STILL GET THE BAGS IN, YOU JUST GOTTA PAY MORE IF YOU WANNA LAST IN THE DROUGHT
HIS CUZ CROSSED 'EM LIKE KYRIE IRVING
thank
And we been tryna get some money to this day
Them niggas talking
So I know they gon hate
But when they with you
They gon ask if you could pay
I told
Death , Flex like girls suh a clip yo Get Look ina your head weh yo Thinketh Shell dem gold like Trinket , Badness inna man DNA Minted ,move ina car well
Downtown, downtown
When I'm looking up at you I find that I still frown
While your daughter rolls up with that really nice gown
Yet for some reason
at the better at the better to combust you got the Cali gun for fun
And if you throw me past the pack man you get it
They putting down the gun
Chopper you
your due
You built a maze you can't get through
I tried to help you all I can
Now I can't do nothin' for you man
I can't do nothin' for ya man
You
a couple (Shhh) I can call in Detroit and Nigeria
New law before you get a gun know how to fight
I can buy the whole thing stop checking the price
Two girls
himself
Stitched by Dapper Dan, oh man with the gun in hand
I leave your blood squirting
No offense, I'll put your face on the chest of a sweatshirt
there sweetheart, you know, I can't do it. Pretty kind of useless, though, don't you think so Mary?
Man: Come with me to the far lands of Baghdad.
of the sprinter
If I was you I'd pick a lane
We make our day and nights Intertwine
Trust me
We are not the same
Pull off with your sidepiece and Your main
Can't
down, and grab on his nuts
And on the other hand, without a gun they can't get none
But don't let it be a black and a white one
'Cause they'll slam you
[Cocking of a gun, followed by gunshot repeated throughout.]
Bone thugs-n-harmony. I know you niggas been waitin' for this for a
long time. Well, here it
lung
I can't believe I'm dying with my song unsung.
If and when I die won't you bury me alone?
'Cause I'll never get to heaven if I'm singing this
get a case man
I got the gun with me
But you don't get a one fifty
I keep the nine on my waste
Take a knife out and put a
Nike sign on your face
I put
get a case man
I got the gun with me
But you don't get a one fifty
I keep the nine on my waste
Take a knife out and put a
Nike sign on your face
I put
(boom)
Yeah, man can't take my energy
Fuckboy with the fuckboy Tennessee
In a mix-up like champs and Hennessey
Heard they got robbed
What are you telling
She got on Prada frames
Know she got money but she only like the finer things
Say she the one but I cant trust her with no diamond ring
Say that she
(standard)
I tell man (standard), them boy (standard)
Fourteen, I was in the hood with the gangsters
Can't be a dickhead in my hood, you'll get banded
guns too
It's not to be a racist, but let's face this
Wouldn't you if we could trade places?
I got lynched by some crooked cops and to this day
Them
that
How you go from singing in church into toting guns
How you get finessed twice in a day really dumb
Doing everything I do you my fucking son
Game too
Never link none of my exes secretly
If it's beef with you, then it's beef with me
So if I die by the gun
And you don't wanna ride out, don't tweet rest
the beat go?
Bring that, shit back, didn't want to hear that, clik-clak
Tons of fun with guns
Fuck all the lil' chit-chat get back get that get that
Who
the fuck you do?
I'm the ice cream truck man, guns in the trunk man
Drugs in the trunk man, call me the front man
Too much Cris' in the club not to get
And I ride swervin down the westside highway
Get high like a G4 on the runway
I can't land it man with gun in hand
A hundred grand in escrow tryna
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