"Facility
If you feel you're being victimized or extorted by this prisoner
Please contact 855-466-2832" (I, I)
I never forget where I came from
All my lil' niggas got my main number (to accept this call, press zero)
Call me if you need me (to refuse this call)
I miss Lou, I still miss Reese
Lately, been arguing too much with Drekk
Still tryna send some up to my people
I don't give a f*ck, I don't give a f*ck neither
Shit done dropped, nigga I ain't got beef
Catch one, stretch one, whoever I see
I done put a couple hundred thou' in my Jeep
'Fore I let another bitch tell me talk cheap
I'll throw VS1s all on my teeth
Feds watchin' close, only reason it's peace
I'll still whack some', nigga, on me
Wildin' in a mask, can't even get pics
Reek, Nell or Ap still gotta call private
Next nigga screamin', "Doggy bone," ain't here
I'ma turn the whole Eastside to Coney Island
Post that bitch, them the hoes I missed
Lamb' got crashed but the Ghost got spinned
Cudi got gas but I'd rather sell bricks
I'd rather help a nigga out who losin'
Every time I touch down, nigga, it's a movie
Ten of us buffed down, here from the D
Scratch that all my niggas from the East
I just spent sixty-five-hundred on some seats
Doggy, that ain't shit to a nigga with three Ms
I done got tired of f*ckin' nigga's BMs
I don't wanna f*ck, baby, can we be friends?
She don't wanna be friends, "Doggy, can we f*ck?" Not us
Streets freed Lou, that's just my luck
Can't fall in love, gotta test my trust
My baby want a kid this year
Told her, "Let's live this year"
Shit got real, on the phone with the lawyer
F*ck around and got spoiled
Bring me one-fifty cash
I done had to jump all the way in my bag
Fastest blue thing on the street that's mine
I, I, I never forget where I came from
All my lil' niggas got my main number
Call me if you need me
I miss Lou, I still miss Reese
42 Dugg - Free Dem Boyz Album Lyrics
42 Dugg - Free Dem Boyz Lyrics
Writer: Dion Hayes, Tavian Carter
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Turnest Nigga in the City
(D-d-d-d-dj Swift on the track)
Youngest of the t-
Ayy, I see you niggas
Mook, what up?
(Mook got the kids jumpin')
Doggy brick for sixty-five, yeah, I'm on that
Free Skeet, if they don't take a three, then I don't want that
One foot in and one foot out like f*ck it, bring them phones back
Cuz takin' hits still, 12 could get 'em killed still
Buzz been goin' up in the hood, Doggy a thug
Jedd finally cut off his hair, caught him a Blood
Still takin' hits of the nast', thought I was done
Nah, bitch, get you a bag, let's have some fun
Jazz back f*ckin' with Chazz, I shouldn't cry
Maybach, two hunnid in cash, I shouldn't drive
Local niggas tryna compete, show me a M
Ran up two-fifty this week, nigga, in Timbs
Gotti got 'em all lined up, I want a dime
Doggy talkin' crazy on the 'Gram, I wanna try 'em
Like he ain't worth half what he be sayin', niggas be lyin'
Bitch, I get it, I'm still f*ckin' over all your niggas
Turntest youngin' in the city, you know all us pipe
Everybody tote a .30, bitch, and all us fight
Gettin' paid from them birdies, niggas, all us Mike, Vick, ho
Let's hit the road, I need a white bitch (what else?)
Prolly move back to the A, niggas don't like me
Never seen Doggy go bold, check his indictments
Told all you niggas here 'cause I'm on, why you ain't write me?
I just got a call from Durk, niggas kitin' off the rocks
See a opp', you know it's on, say he right, I know he wrong
Ain't no iffy, bitch, I'm goin', two shot dealie, bitch, I'm blowin'
Any color, double orange, rose gold, forty pointers
Niggas' hoes, they be pointin' (I see you)
Show that work-work, nigga, I know like four of y'all ain't right
Double seven, not a five, nigga, four of y'all ain't fight
Gimme those, straight to Mike's, that was never me
And tell that bitch, "Get off my dick, I got better freaks"
Bro, if I want a ho for real, she'll never leave
I'm still on the East packin', swervin' in that Bent'
I still got the same air mattress that got her hit
Lemme stop, I got a bitch, but nigga, she rich too
Turntest youngin' in the city, you know all us pipe
Everybody tote a .30, bitch, and all us fight
Gettin' paid from them birdies, niggas, all us Mike, Vick, ho
Let's hit the road, I need a white bitch (what else?)
Prolly move back to the A, niggas don't like me
Never seen Doggy go bold, check his indictments
Told all you niggas here 'cause I'm on, why you ain't write me?
I just got a call from Durk, niggas kitin' off the rocks
Niggas kitin' off the rocks, bitch
Youngest of the t-
Ayy, I see you niggas
Mook, what up?
(Mook got the kids jumpin')
Doggy brick for sixty-five, yeah, I'm on that
Free Skeet, if they don't take a three, then I don't want that
One foot in and one foot out like f*ck it, bring them phones back
Cuz takin' hits still, 12 could get 'em killed still
Buzz been goin' up in the hood, Doggy a thug
Jedd finally cut off his hair, caught him a Blood
Still takin' hits of the nast', thought I was done
Nah, bitch, get you a bag, let's have some fun
Jazz back f*ckin' with Chazz, I shouldn't cry
Maybach, two hunnid in cash, I shouldn't drive
Local niggas tryna compete, show me a M
Ran up two-fifty this week, nigga, in Timbs
Gotti got 'em all lined up, I want a dime
Doggy talkin' crazy on the 'Gram, I wanna try 'em
Like he ain't worth half what he be sayin', niggas be lyin'
Bitch, I get it, I'm still f*ckin' over all your niggas
Turntest youngin' in the city, you know all us pipe
Everybody tote a .30, bitch, and all us fight
Gettin' paid from them birdies, niggas, all us Mike, Vick, ho
Let's hit the road, I need a white bitch (what else?)
Prolly move back to the A, niggas don't like me
Never seen Doggy go bold, check his indictments
Told all you niggas here 'cause I'm on, why you ain't write me?
I just got a call from Durk, niggas kitin' off the rocks
See a opp', you know it's on, say he right, I know he wrong
Ain't no iffy, bitch, I'm goin', two shot dealie, bitch, I'm blowin'
Any color, double orange, rose gold, forty pointers
Niggas' hoes, they be pointin' (I see you)
Show that work-work, nigga, I know like four of y'all ain't right
Double seven, not a five, nigga, four of y'all ain't fight
Gimme those, straight to Mike's, that was never me
And tell that bitch, "Get off my dick, I got better freaks"
Bro, if I want a ho for real, she'll never leave
I'm still on the East packin', swervin' in that Bent'
I still got the same air mattress that got her hit
Lemme stop, I got a bitch, but nigga, she rich too
Turntest youngin' in the city, you know all us pipe
Everybody tote a .30, bitch, and all us fight
Gettin' paid from them birdies, niggas, all us Mike, Vick, ho
Let's hit the road, I need a white bitch (what else?)
Prolly move back to the A, niggas don't like me
Never seen Doggy go bold, check his indictments
Told all you niggas here 'cause I'm on, why you ain't write me?
I just got a call from Durk, niggas kitin' off the rocks
Niggas kitin' off the rocks, bitch
Writer: Damion Deron Williams, Dion Hayes
Copyright: Lyrics © GREAT SOUTH BAY MUSIC GROUP INC
Copyright: Lyrics © GREAT SOUTH BAY MUSIC GROUP INC
We Know
I got caught up with hustlin', yeah, and kinda rappin'
You gotta be different, all these niggas kinda average
Still in the city, a nickel on me, mill' in cash
Show you a shh, yeah, nigga get a bag
Drekk gotta Richard, my ex bitch gettin' mad
A nigga gettin' richer, like why the f*ck you still in 'Cats?
We know who run this bitch
Condo for the bricks, bows sold on the sixth
Coldest hoes on my dick, yeah, he got one
Lamb' truck and the Bent', bitch, we not done
Demon Hellcat and Track, bitch, we not done
Five Bloods in the Sprinter, I bet we shot some (baow, baow, baow)
'Cause the turntest in the city, they like, "Uh-uh"
How the f*ck is Mell' in Atlanta fightin' an unarmed?
How the f*ck is Mell' on the lick without a gun on him?
I ain't never called a ho out and ain't stunt on her
Shoutout to my, everything went right
Send another ten, we gon' flood this bitch tonight (on Neff)
We know who run this bitch
F*ckin' all the rats, havin' fun with this shit
I could've went Rolls but instead, I went Urus
They told me buy a house, f*ck that, I'm buyin' jewelry
Three phones, all of 'em do a brick
Instead of sellin' sevens, I've been handin' out zips
My youngin' got a problem, good or bad bitch, I got you
Lawyers fees paid, you know shit'll get to droppin'
Put me on the line with Proctor, old head gotta ghost
Tommy on the seed, I don't trust shit but the 4's
You and me now we clickin', f*ck buyin' Amiri
I done made more in Dickies, turntest nigga in the city
All the link-ups in the A
Doggy did a six on the seven, free the H
Wild niggas servin' banks, stressed out about his case
Doggy you need love
Drop a nigga once a month, Drekk know I need drugs
Why the f*ck when it was us ain't nobody clap?
Now other niggas gettin' a turn, everybody happy (f*ck 'em)
Instead of askin' for it Doggy, I'ma make it happen
I'll spend my last on my niggas
Big game comin', everybody get a ticket
We know who run this bitch
F*ckin' all the rats, havin' fun with this shit
I could've went Rolls but instead, I went Urus
They told me buy a house, f*ck that, I'm buyin' jewelry
Three phones, all of 'em do a brick
Instead of sellin' sevens, I've been handin' out zips
My youngin' got a problem, good or bad bitch, I got you
Lawyers fees paid, you know shit'll get to droppin'
You gotta be different, all these niggas kinda average
Still in the city, a nickel on me, mill' in cash
Show you a shh, yeah, nigga get a bag
Drekk gotta Richard, my ex bitch gettin' mad
A nigga gettin' richer, like why the f*ck you still in 'Cats?
We know who run this bitch
Condo for the bricks, bows sold on the sixth
Coldest hoes on my dick, yeah, he got one
Lamb' truck and the Bent', bitch, we not done
Demon Hellcat and Track, bitch, we not done
Five Bloods in the Sprinter, I bet we shot some (baow, baow, baow)
'Cause the turntest in the city, they like, "Uh-uh"
How the f*ck is Mell' in Atlanta fightin' an unarmed?
How the f*ck is Mell' on the lick without a gun on him?
I ain't never called a ho out and ain't stunt on her
Shoutout to my, everything went right
Send another ten, we gon' flood this bitch tonight (on Neff)
We know who run this bitch
F*ckin' all the rats, havin' fun with this shit
I could've went Rolls but instead, I went Urus
They told me buy a house, f*ck that, I'm buyin' jewelry
Three phones, all of 'em do a brick
Instead of sellin' sevens, I've been handin' out zips
My youngin' got a problem, good or bad bitch, I got you
Lawyers fees paid, you know shit'll get to droppin'
Put me on the line with Proctor, old head gotta ghost
Tommy on the seed, I don't trust shit but the 4's
You and me now we clickin', f*ck buyin' Amiri
I done made more in Dickies, turntest nigga in the city
All the link-ups in the A
Doggy did a six on the seven, free the H
Wild niggas servin' banks, stressed out about his case
Doggy you need love
Drop a nigga once a month, Drekk know I need drugs
Why the f*ck when it was us ain't nobody clap?
Now other niggas gettin' a turn, everybody happy (f*ck 'em)
Instead of askin' for it Doggy, I'ma make it happen
I'll spend my last on my niggas
Big game comin', everybody get a ticket
We know who run this bitch
F*ckin' all the rats, havin' fun with this shit
I could've went Rolls but instead, I went Urus
They told me buy a house, f*ck that, I'm buyin' jewelry
Three phones, all of 'em do a brick
Instead of sellin' sevens, I've been handin' out zips
My youngin' got a problem, good or bad bitch, I got you
Lawyers fees paid, you know shit'll get to droppin'
Writer: Dion Hayes, Martin McCurtis
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
4 Da Gang
You
I can't wait for the nights with you (with you)
I imagine the things we'll do
Ain't nothin' plain on me, nigga, four chains on me
I ain't trippin' 'bout that ho, nigga, she came on me
I got a bitch from the West, she'll suck a nigga soft
Bitch from the East, she'll f*ck a nigga dawgs
Still playin' with that raw even though I got a deal
Had to get up out the city, I just got a nigga killed
Pause, I'm lyin', kinda still sippin' out the Fanta
Oxycotin and Opanas, I want four-two for each
Niggas upped Lou for free, that's my nigga, come and kick it
Mister still'll serve the city, I'm the reason it's some chicken
Why the f*ck you in the kitchen tryna turn one?
Daire quit pullin' on the blender 'fore you burn somethin'
Baby, say she wanna real nigga, she don't get it
Why you ain't never up at night? I told you I been sippin'
Still go harder for my niggas, wish I can bring you back
Turntest in the city white lows, blue flags
Know I keep two flags on bang
I just dropped a Urus for the gang
Catch me in the city, young nigga, four chains
Signed to CMG, still in the dope game
I don't swipe propane, really got it out the mud
Big 4 Gang, catch me ridin' with the thugs
Yeah, I got it on my own, ain't nobody help me
Remain humble, sell crack to dope fiends
You can't "Lil' bro" me, bitch, I really got a check
4-2 in this shit, I be really on that
Put the city on my back, still remember hard times
2018 was the year my dawg died
Pull up in frog eyes, yeah, nigga we winnin'
Amiris on low, if not wheat Timbs
Me and 42 pullin' up, twin Bentleys
Peanut butter seats so my windows tinted
Know I keep two flags on bang
I just dropped a Urus for the gang
Tied from the D to LA
Always keep it a hunnid K
Number one nigga but they never gon' admit it
I was doin' two hunnid in a 'Rarri and got a ticket
Every time they see me, they say they ain't see me in a minute
Prolly f*ckin' on ya bitches, prolly runnin' up some digits
Forgiato wheels both lanes
Floor mats say a nigga name
Interrogation, Feds try to put us on the board, never identified
All my niggas always gettin' dough, it's always chicken time
I got niggas in the box, gon' call me collect
I got model bitches that be tryna call me for sex
And you know what they say, "If it ain't directed, then it ain't respected"
You see 'em out in public, they gon' act like they never said it
I see by the C-side, I throw it up two times
Your nigga got a gangsta card, he bought it off Groupon
One of the young niggas that be gettin' love in the city
From the hub to the dub in the tub, f*ck with me
Pull up in frog eyes, yeah, nigga we winnin'
Amiris on low, if not wheat Timbs
Me and 42 pullin' up, twin Bentleys
Peanut butter seats so my windows tinted
Know I keep two flags on bang
I just dropped a Urus for the gang
Tied from the D to LA
Always keep it a hunnid K
I can't wait for the nights with you (with you)
I imagine the things we'll do
Ain't nothin' plain on me, nigga, four chains on me
I ain't trippin' 'bout that ho, nigga, she came on me
I got a bitch from the West, she'll suck a nigga soft
Bitch from the East, she'll f*ck a nigga dawgs
Still playin' with that raw even though I got a deal
Had to get up out the city, I just got a nigga killed
Pause, I'm lyin', kinda still sippin' out the Fanta
Oxycotin and Opanas, I want four-two for each
Niggas upped Lou for free, that's my nigga, come and kick it
Mister still'll serve the city, I'm the reason it's some chicken
Why the f*ck you in the kitchen tryna turn one?
Daire quit pullin' on the blender 'fore you burn somethin'
Baby, say she wanna real nigga, she don't get it
Why you ain't never up at night? I told you I been sippin'
Still go harder for my niggas, wish I can bring you back
Turntest in the city white lows, blue flags
Know I keep two flags on bang
I just dropped a Urus for the gang
Catch me in the city, young nigga, four chains
Signed to CMG, still in the dope game
I don't swipe propane, really got it out the mud
Big 4 Gang, catch me ridin' with the thugs
Yeah, I got it on my own, ain't nobody help me
Remain humble, sell crack to dope fiends
You can't "Lil' bro" me, bitch, I really got a check
4-2 in this shit, I be really on that
Put the city on my back, still remember hard times
2018 was the year my dawg died
Pull up in frog eyes, yeah, nigga we winnin'
Amiris on low, if not wheat Timbs
Me and 42 pullin' up, twin Bentleys
Peanut butter seats so my windows tinted
Know I keep two flags on bang
I just dropped a Urus for the gang
Tied from the D to LA
Always keep it a hunnid K
Number one nigga but they never gon' admit it
I was doin' two hunnid in a 'Rarri and got a ticket
Every time they see me, they say they ain't see me in a minute
Prolly f*ckin' on ya bitches, prolly runnin' up some digits
Forgiato wheels both lanes
Floor mats say a nigga name
Interrogation, Feds try to put us on the board, never identified
All my niggas always gettin' dough, it's always chicken time
I got niggas in the box, gon' call me collect
I got model bitches that be tryna call me for sex
And you know what they say, "If it ain't directed, then it ain't respected"
You see 'em out in public, they gon' act like they never said it
I see by the C-side, I throw it up two times
Your nigga got a gangsta card, he bought it off Groupon
One of the young niggas that be gettin' love in the city
From the hub to the dub in the tub, f*ck with me
Pull up in frog eyes, yeah, nigga we winnin'
Amiris on low, if not wheat Timbs
Me and 42 pullin' up, twin Bentleys
Peanut butter seats so my windows tinted
Know I keep two flags on bang
I just dropped a Urus for the gang
Tied from the D to LA
Always keep it a hunnid K
Writer: Dion Marquise Hayes, Julien B. Anderson, Klaus Meine, Rodrick Wayne Jr. Moore, Rudolf Schenker, Tavian Dawson Carter
Copyright: Lyrics © GREAT SOUTH BAY MUSIC GROUP INC, Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © GREAT SOUTH BAY MUSIC GROUP INC, Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Maybach
[42 Dugg]
(Dee, you poppin' your shit, nigga)
(G, I think we got one)
Only love I ever felt was for my mama, on my mama
Miss my grandma, miss my uncle
Rest in peace Neff and Rece
Cash out, thick bitch from the Westside
Cash, dawg, no, this is not a S-Class
Maybach, I been turnin' up for my city
I been turnin' up for my city
[42 Dugg]
Richie Rich, f*ck her, then I leave, bitch, ain't no, "Give me kiss"
All or nothin', freak bitch call me Dugg and I don't call her number
She finessin', baby, I need a dime
Baby, I need a, yeah, leave a message
Dawg, you known for doggin' hoes
Bae, I can't f*ck all them hoes
Take her shoppin', she bе fly
Hermes, Chanel, and Prada
Gucci coat matchin' my mama's
'21, brand nеw, no mileage
F*ck me before I start wildin'
Calm me down
Sixes, brown, tickin' bomb
Sippin' Dom Pérignon
Bitches fine, glizzy, nine
Play and get shot
I'm still missin' my pops
When is you gettin' out?
I been turnin' up for my city (Turn me up)
I been turnin' up for my city
[Future & 42 Dugg]
Tell Dess make me some noodles
Turn my young bitch to a shooter
Damn, I miss OG Double, taught me how to pimp and hustle
I go and hit a lick, you can go and ask Bubba
Big blocks, tote real choppers
Whole lotta shooters, you don't want no problems
R.I.P. Junebug, taught me in the broad day
Tryna pay this lawyer for my lil' ones, gon' be a cold case
Magic City, I'm the owner
Tell Steve Harvey I don't want her
One thing I never seen was a bitch that leave
Every time I crank the car, I don't use a key
Push-start, foreign whip
Two glizzies, extended clips
I don't go a day bein' sober
Pour a lotta dope in my soda
Magic City, I'm the owner
Tell Steve Harvey I don't want her
Sixes brown, tickin' bomb, sippin' Dom Pérignon
Big ridin', really, I'm a don
Made these bitches wait in line
I done came out the muddy
I done put the most white diamonds on the blackest hoes
[42 Dugg, Future & Both]
I'm just turnin' up for my city (Turn me up)
I'm just turnin' up for my city
I'm just turnin' up for my city (Turn me up)
I been turnin' up for my city
Grandma, daddy, mama, sister, I been through so much lately
Run it up and stash it, damn near two million on that mattress
CMG, that's who I signed to, but I like my pockets full
I got my game from the streets, I barely went to school
I know nine Dugg, slow down, shawty
Four times, I don't really like to squash
On my daddy, on my mama
I don't really like to squash
(Dee, you poppin' your shit, nigga)
(G, I think we got one)
Only love I ever felt was for my mama, on my mama
Miss my grandma, miss my uncle
Rest in peace Neff and Rece
Cash out, thick bitch from the Westside
Cash, dawg, no, this is not a S-Class
Maybach, I been turnin' up for my city
I been turnin' up for my city
[42 Dugg]
Richie Rich, f*ck her, then I leave, bitch, ain't no, "Give me kiss"
All or nothin', freak bitch call me Dugg and I don't call her number
She finessin', baby, I need a dime
Baby, I need a, yeah, leave a message
Dawg, you known for doggin' hoes
Bae, I can't f*ck all them hoes
Take her shoppin', she bе fly
Hermes, Chanel, and Prada
Gucci coat matchin' my mama's
'21, brand nеw, no mileage
F*ck me before I start wildin'
Calm me down
Sixes, brown, tickin' bomb
Sippin' Dom Pérignon
Bitches fine, glizzy, nine
Play and get shot
I'm still missin' my pops
When is you gettin' out?
I been turnin' up for my city (Turn me up)
I been turnin' up for my city
[Future & 42 Dugg]
Tell Dess make me some noodles
Turn my young bitch to a shooter
Damn, I miss OG Double, taught me how to pimp and hustle
I go and hit a lick, you can go and ask Bubba
Big blocks, tote real choppers
Whole lotta shooters, you don't want no problems
R.I.P. Junebug, taught me in the broad day
Tryna pay this lawyer for my lil' ones, gon' be a cold case
Magic City, I'm the owner
Tell Steve Harvey I don't want her
One thing I never seen was a bitch that leave
Every time I crank the car, I don't use a key
Push-start, foreign whip
Two glizzies, extended clips
I don't go a day bein' sober
Pour a lotta dope in my soda
Magic City, I'm the owner
Tell Steve Harvey I don't want her
Sixes brown, tickin' bomb, sippin' Dom Pérignon
Big ridin', really, I'm a don
Made these bitches wait in line
I done came out the muddy
I done put the most white diamonds on the blackest hoes
[42 Dugg, Future & Both]
I'm just turnin' up for my city (Turn me up)
I'm just turnin' up for my city
I'm just turnin' up for my city (Turn me up)
I been turnin' up for my city
Grandma, daddy, mama, sister, I been through so much lately
Run it up and stash it, damn near two million on that mattress
CMG, that's who I signed to, but I like my pockets full
I got my game from the streets, I barely went to school
I know nine Dugg, slow down, shawty
Four times, I don't really like to squash
On my daddy, on my mama
I don't really like to squash
Writer: Darius Henry, Dion Hayes, Gorelov Lev Aleksandorovich, Jeuan Kiel Tabarrejo, Nayvadius Demun Wilburn
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Bestfriends
Me and Drez, nigga, me and Reek, nigga (Dmac on the f*ckin' track)
Free them muhf*ckin' boys, nigga
Big fours
(Tuned up)
F*ck with me, you sayin' somethin'?
Me and my youngins, all we like to do is get money (what else?)
F*ck hoes, kill niggas, spray shit (how many?)
Sixty-four shots between us, can't miss
Bro, I killed him, oh, he ain't dead? F*ck
R-I-P to T-, he ain't had the same luck
Wire got one too, this is not the same truck
Get your ho hit speakin' down on a G
TJ on her ass in the SRT (skrrt)
Me and Tay, we just poured up another eighth
Bro I hate when rat hoes start actin' fake
Forever my brother keeper, me and Drez
We done really blew shit down, on my kids
Doggy gotta chill, might as well step in
Every time we touch a bitch, two FNs
Just call us the best friends, youngins really put in work
Then subtract five, all the niggas we done murdered
All these bitches gettin' f*cked, I'm the never-fall-in-love type
Cuz right, cookin' up usin' two pots, nigga, thug life
I was just drinkin' cool shots, bitch, I love life, brrat
How much you gon' charge me for that n-n-n-n-neck?
All I know is disrespect, niggas ain't been in the field
You gotta whack, them niggas ain't doin' no drills
I never call you to duty, they'll never call you a shooter
How the f*ck we all gettin' to it? How the f*ck my dawg in a movie?
Fully automatic .45s, this not a Uzi
Still gon' blow a nigga, I don't give a f*ck
Half of the city's toe tags go to us
I ain't ever no showed no sign of a f*ck
Nigga, tell me y'all want it, bitch, we can get it
Still on the corner, mix the fentanyl with Rizzy (you with who?)
Me and my youngins, all we like to do is get money (what else?)
F*ck hoes, kill niggas, spray shit (how many?)
Sixty-four shots between us, can't miss
Bro, I killed him, oh, he ain't dead? F*ck
R-I-P to T-, he ain't had the same luck
Wire got one too, this is not the same truck
Get your ho hit speakin' down on a G
TJ on her ass in the SRT (skrrt)
Me and Tay, we just poured up another eighth
Bro I hate when rat hoes start actin' fake
Forever my brother keeper, me and Drez
We done really blew shit down, on my kids
Free them muhf*ckin' boys, nigga
Big fours
(Tuned up)
F*ck with me, you sayin' somethin'?
Me and my youngins, all we like to do is get money (what else?)
F*ck hoes, kill niggas, spray shit (how many?)
Sixty-four shots between us, can't miss
Bro, I killed him, oh, he ain't dead? F*ck
R-I-P to T-, he ain't had the same luck
Wire got one too, this is not the same truck
Get your ho hit speakin' down on a G
TJ on her ass in the SRT (skrrt)
Me and Tay, we just poured up another eighth
Bro I hate when rat hoes start actin' fake
Forever my brother keeper, me and Drez
We done really blew shit down, on my kids
Doggy gotta chill, might as well step in
Every time we touch a bitch, two FNs
Just call us the best friends, youngins really put in work
Then subtract five, all the niggas we done murdered
All these bitches gettin' f*cked, I'm the never-fall-in-love type
Cuz right, cookin' up usin' two pots, nigga, thug life
I was just drinkin' cool shots, bitch, I love life, brrat
How much you gon' charge me for that n-n-n-n-neck?
All I know is disrespect, niggas ain't been in the field
You gotta whack, them niggas ain't doin' no drills
I never call you to duty, they'll never call you a shooter
How the f*ck we all gettin' to it? How the f*ck my dawg in a movie?
Fully automatic .45s, this not a Uzi
Still gon' blow a nigga, I don't give a f*ck
Half of the city's toe tags go to us
I ain't ever no showed no sign of a f*ck
Nigga, tell me y'all want it, bitch, we can get it
Still on the corner, mix the fentanyl with Rizzy (you with who?)
Me and my youngins, all we like to do is get money (what else?)
F*ck hoes, kill niggas, spray shit (how many?)
Sixty-four shots between us, can't miss
Bro, I killed him, oh, he ain't dead? F*ck
R-I-P to T-, he ain't had the same luck
Wire got one too, this is not the same truck
Get your ho hit speakin' down on a G
TJ on her ass in the SRT (skrrt)
Me and Tay, we just poured up another eighth
Bro I hate when rat hoes start actin' fake
Forever my brother keeper, me and Drez
We done really blew shit down, on my kids
Writer: Dion Hayes, Dyllan McKinney, Spencer Harris
Copyright: Lyrics © LUSH MUSIC LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © LUSH MUSIC LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Alone
And you was supposed to hold me down
I wish I could see your smile
All that other shit don't mean nothin', I came from hustlin'
And I still remember all the advice you ever gave me
How the f*ck you goin' down when I was eighteen?
Wrong, you was wrong about a lot of shit
I'm on my own, I'm on my own but I'll never quit
I'm doin' good, double up and bring it to the hood, this shit for us
Tell me how the f*ck is it for us if I'm alone?
Still remember cryin' on the phone, me and Reese
I forever got your kid, my nigga, 'til we even
I swear I wanna quit, but bro, I gotta keep goin'
They ain't got my back out here, I swear it's somethin' I know
Probably be happier to hear I'm goin' broke
I know for a fact a couple million on a home
My head down, but shit been lookin' up for a minute
You always with your nigga, but you in love with me
Them cars paid and your house, boo you can chill now, yeah
A hundred thousand ain't shit, I got a them M's now, yeah
I never committed fraud
Five hundred cash, blow it all to see my dawg
Find me in my bag, niggas prayin' on me to fall
If it weren't for this rap shit, I'd still be sellin' raw
I know you notice progression
We fell out 'cause you was messy
Them killers know I be steppin', since a young nigga
Still that one nigga
Granny still cryin'
Ayy, my mama still
And you was supposed to hold me down
I wish I could see your smile
All that other shit don't mean nothin', I came from hustlin'
And I still remember all the advice you ever gave me
How the f*ck you goin' down when I was eighteen?
Wrong, you was wrong about a lot of shit
I'm on my own, I'm on my own but I'll never quit
I'm doin' good, double up and bring it to the hood, this shit for us
Tell me how the f*ck is it for us if I'm alone? (Yeah, yeah)
I been judged twice
Losin' four-five niggas in one summer, that ain't nothin' nice (that ain't nothin' nice)
Blamed for bodies, funeral homes packed, but I only hugged twice (yeah)
Smellin' blood comin' from his body, that ain't nothin' nice (that ain't nothin' nice)
Hurt you more when killers that you love turned to a f*ckin' mice (let's get it)
Love me like I love you, bro (love me like I love you)
Love me like you love these hoes (love me like you loves these hoes)
Love don't last and it even show
They show they hand, they trade for sure
I helped when you was at your lowest
It seem like you ain't wanna grow (you ain't wanna grow)
We in tune with the world, you still ain't seem to make a show
I send mail to the jails, they sent it back
Said, "Gang signs was scratched out," they gave us hell
And ain't wanna take two years, I can imagine you with an L
How you feel? Give me chills
See I'm rappin, but I'm for real, yeah, yeah
We gon' get back, so if you see us, you better get back
Click, click-clack, his shit splat
Street nigga forever, I'm with whatever, come with that (let's get it)
Niggas dyin' if they with that, let's get it
Granny still cryin'
Ayy, my mama still
And you was supposed to hold me down
I wish I could see your smile
All that other shit don't mean nothin', I came from hustlin'
And I still remember all the advice you ever gave me
How the f*ck you goin' down when I was eighteen?
Wrong, you was wrong about a lot of shit
I'm on my own, I'm on my own but I'll never quit
I'm doin' good, double up and bring it to the hood, this shit for us
Tell me how the f*ck is it for us if I'm alone?
I wish I could see your smile
All that other shit don't mean nothin', I came from hustlin'
And I still remember all the advice you ever gave me
How the f*ck you goin' down when I was eighteen?
Wrong, you was wrong about a lot of shit
I'm on my own, I'm on my own but I'll never quit
I'm doin' good, double up and bring it to the hood, this shit for us
Tell me how the f*ck is it for us if I'm alone?
Still remember cryin' on the phone, me and Reese
I forever got your kid, my nigga, 'til we even
I swear I wanna quit, but bro, I gotta keep goin'
They ain't got my back out here, I swear it's somethin' I know
Probably be happier to hear I'm goin' broke
I know for a fact a couple million on a home
My head down, but shit been lookin' up for a minute
You always with your nigga, but you in love with me
Them cars paid and your house, boo you can chill now, yeah
A hundred thousand ain't shit, I got a them M's now, yeah
I never committed fraud
Five hundred cash, blow it all to see my dawg
Find me in my bag, niggas prayin' on me to fall
If it weren't for this rap shit, I'd still be sellin' raw
I know you notice progression
We fell out 'cause you was messy
Them killers know I be steppin', since a young nigga
Still that one nigga
Granny still cryin'
Ayy, my mama still
And you was supposed to hold me down
I wish I could see your smile
All that other shit don't mean nothin', I came from hustlin'
And I still remember all the advice you ever gave me
How the f*ck you goin' down when I was eighteen?
Wrong, you was wrong about a lot of shit
I'm on my own, I'm on my own but I'll never quit
I'm doin' good, double up and bring it to the hood, this shit for us
Tell me how the f*ck is it for us if I'm alone? (Yeah, yeah)
I been judged twice
Losin' four-five niggas in one summer, that ain't nothin' nice (that ain't nothin' nice)
Blamed for bodies, funeral homes packed, but I only hugged twice (yeah)
Smellin' blood comin' from his body, that ain't nothin' nice (that ain't nothin' nice)
Hurt you more when killers that you love turned to a f*ckin' mice (let's get it)
Love me like I love you, bro (love me like I love you)
Love me like you love these hoes (love me like you loves these hoes)
Love don't last and it even show
They show they hand, they trade for sure
I helped when you was at your lowest
It seem like you ain't wanna grow (you ain't wanna grow)
We in tune with the world, you still ain't seem to make a show
I send mail to the jails, they sent it back
Said, "Gang signs was scratched out," they gave us hell
And ain't wanna take two years, I can imagine you with an L
How you feel? Give me chills
See I'm rappin, but I'm for real, yeah, yeah
We gon' get back, so if you see us, you better get back
Click, click-clack, his shit splat
Street nigga forever, I'm with whatever, come with that (let's get it)
Niggas dyin' if they with that, let's get it
Granny still cryin'
Ayy, my mama still
And you was supposed to hold me down
I wish I could see your smile
All that other shit don't mean nothin', I came from hustlin'
And I still remember all the advice you ever gave me
How the f*ck you goin' down when I was eighteen?
Wrong, you was wrong about a lot of shit
I'm on my own, I'm on my own but I'll never quit
I'm doin' good, double up and bring it to the hood, this shit for us
Tell me how the f*ck is it for us if I'm alone?
Writer: Dion Hayes, Durk D. Banks, Rai'Shaun Williams
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Still Miss My Niggas
(Free dem boys, free dem boys)
Pandemic almost over, what you say (where that paper at?)
Will used to be a killer, but you done changed
Wrote a statement on your nigga, this shit be crazy
He ain't go down for a thing, I used to praise him
(Veno gon' cook up, he mix the ingredients)
I still miss my niggas
V-Live, favorite, I'll trip in this bitch
I ain't goin' in 'less the pole come too (on God)
Bust down Richard bought my ho one too (on God)
You ain't gotta ask, nigga, know I'm shootin'
On Reese, on Rob, on Neff, on Scooter, I ain't lettin' shit slide
Mr. I'll-Still-Walk-Shit-Down, Fanta lookin' dirty
Thirty-six for a pound, not cookie
All the drug dealers wanna book me (no cap)
Paid to get you killed, I ain't payin' for no pussy (at all)
And I'm kinda schooled, don't shit, beat you triple
Ask about me, youngin', dawg, he always on the mission (always)
Always first to shoot with that .30, I act different (bap, bap)
If he ain't dead, guarantee that nigga crippled, my bad
"You still on the phone?" Yeah, with Drekk fine ass
Last time tryin' love, shit, I hope it work
Still holdin' for my youngin' really fightin' murders (free dem boys)
First time on the hit, I was kinda nervous (swear)
You ain't into suckin' dick, you don't need my number
All about the money, all about the bag
Tracks kinda cool but I still f*ck with 'Cats (skrrt)
Spin the block on 'em, throw them bitches at his neck (bap-bap-bap-bap-bap)
Can't forget about me, bitches know I'm still the catch
Million dollars in cash, you will get stretched
I still miss my niggas
V-Live, favorite, I'll trip in this bitch
I ain't goin' in 'less the pole come too
Bust down Richard but my ho one too (swear to God)
You ain't gotta ask, nigga, know I'm shootin'
On Reese, on Rob, on Neff, on Scooter, I ain't lettin' shit slide
Mr. I'll-Still-Walk-Shit-Down (come here), Fanta lookin' dirty
Thirty-six for a pound, not cookie
Know I f*ck with James Harden but I'll never leave the rocket
'Fore I let her waste my time, I put on all my watches
Thousand dollar jeans, my mama told me something that's outta pocket
Literally holdin' thirty pairs of Amiri jeans
'Member doin' shows for a rack, I drove four hours for that
My folks shared a hotel with the gang, I brought like four hundred back
Ridin' 'round with pistols in our laps, we ain't runnin' no track
Lot of niggas cap, I don't wanna boss but I took off my hat
I was twenty years old when I stole my mama coat, we was at TJ Maxx
Now it's foreigns in the driveway, which one I'm gon' drive today?
Told the opps, "I got manners, one of you niggas wanna die today?"
Dumpin' back, hangin' out the window, have 'em dancin' like Sada Baby
Know a Blood don't watch football 'less he bettin' 'gainst the Redskins
Twenty racks on Cuban links, not African-American
Put them chains on then went way faster
Feelin' like a ex-slave master
I still miss my niggas
V-Live, favorite, I'll trip in this bitch (trip in this bitch)
I ain't goin' in 'less the pole come too (on God)
Bust down Richard but my ho one too (on God)
You ain't gotta ask, nigga, know I'm shootin'
On Reese, on Rob, on Neff, on Scooter, I ain't lettin' shit slide
Mr. I'll-Still-Walk-Shit-Down, Fanta lookin' dirty
Thirty-six for a pound, not cookie
All the drug dealers wanna book me
Still movin', talkin' 'bout no cookies
All the drug dealers wanna book me
All the drug dealers wanna book
All the drug dealers wanna book me
Pandemic almost over, what you say (where that paper at?)
Will used to be a killer, but you done changed
Wrote a statement on your nigga, this shit be crazy
He ain't go down for a thing, I used to praise him
(Veno gon' cook up, he mix the ingredients)
I still miss my niggas
V-Live, favorite, I'll trip in this bitch
I ain't goin' in 'less the pole come too (on God)
Bust down Richard bought my ho one too (on God)
You ain't gotta ask, nigga, know I'm shootin'
On Reese, on Rob, on Neff, on Scooter, I ain't lettin' shit slide
Mr. I'll-Still-Walk-Shit-Down, Fanta lookin' dirty
Thirty-six for a pound, not cookie
All the drug dealers wanna book me (no cap)
Paid to get you killed, I ain't payin' for no pussy (at all)
And I'm kinda schooled, don't shit, beat you triple
Ask about me, youngin', dawg, he always on the mission (always)
Always first to shoot with that .30, I act different (bap, bap)
If he ain't dead, guarantee that nigga crippled, my bad
"You still on the phone?" Yeah, with Drekk fine ass
Last time tryin' love, shit, I hope it work
Still holdin' for my youngin' really fightin' murders (free dem boys)
First time on the hit, I was kinda nervous (swear)
You ain't into suckin' dick, you don't need my number
All about the money, all about the bag
Tracks kinda cool but I still f*ck with 'Cats (skrrt)
Spin the block on 'em, throw them bitches at his neck (bap-bap-bap-bap-bap)
Can't forget about me, bitches know I'm still the catch
Million dollars in cash, you will get stretched
I still miss my niggas
V-Live, favorite, I'll trip in this bitch
I ain't goin' in 'less the pole come too
Bust down Richard but my ho one too (swear to God)
You ain't gotta ask, nigga, know I'm shootin'
On Reese, on Rob, on Neff, on Scooter, I ain't lettin' shit slide
Mr. I'll-Still-Walk-Shit-Down (come here), Fanta lookin' dirty
Thirty-six for a pound, not cookie
Know I f*ck with James Harden but I'll never leave the rocket
'Fore I let her waste my time, I put on all my watches
Thousand dollar jeans, my mama told me something that's outta pocket
Literally holdin' thirty pairs of Amiri jeans
'Member doin' shows for a rack, I drove four hours for that
My folks shared a hotel with the gang, I brought like four hundred back
Ridin' 'round with pistols in our laps, we ain't runnin' no track
Lot of niggas cap, I don't wanna boss but I took off my hat
I was twenty years old when I stole my mama coat, we was at TJ Maxx
Now it's foreigns in the driveway, which one I'm gon' drive today?
Told the opps, "I got manners, one of you niggas wanna die today?"
Dumpin' back, hangin' out the window, have 'em dancin' like Sada Baby
Know a Blood don't watch football 'less he bettin' 'gainst the Redskins
Twenty racks on Cuban links, not African-American
Put them chains on then went way faster
Feelin' like a ex-slave master
I still miss my niggas
V-Live, favorite, I'll trip in this bitch (trip in this bitch)
I ain't goin' in 'less the pole come too (on God)
Bust down Richard but my ho one too (on God)
You ain't gotta ask, nigga, know I'm shootin'
On Reese, on Rob, on Neff, on Scooter, I ain't lettin' shit slide
Mr. I'll-Still-Walk-Shit-Down, Fanta lookin' dirty
Thirty-six for a pound, not cookie
All the drug dealers wanna book me
Still movin', talkin' 'bout no cookies
All the drug dealers wanna book me
All the drug dealers wanna book
All the drug dealers wanna book me
Writer: Ceary Varon Houston, Dion Hayes, Rylo Rodriguez
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Free Merey
(TayTay made the beat)
Money gon' hurt you, how you don't feel me
Niggas talkin' crazy, boy, I swear that shit kill me
Hold you down forever
As long as you real, we gon' always be together
Label tryna tell me to switch my style
Say I'm in the hood too much and I'm too wild
Long as y'all get yours, I'ma get mine
Old lawyer takin', say I probably gotta sit down
Gotti just called, they freed my dawg
When shit ain't going right, wish it was me and not y'all
F*ck paying the lawyer, bro, I wanna come get you
Wish you had a bond, you know money ain't the issue (the issue)
And, yeah, a nigga still doing wrong, still
Yeah, I still pick up the phone, still
Swear to God, bro, I wish that I could come get you
All those people 'round really ain't my niggas
And, yeah, a nigga still doing wrong, still
Yeah, I still pick up the phone, still
Still doing work for my son
Still in my bag, still on my own
Merey just wrote me, doggy bone, you got it
Keep making us proud or all of this shit don't matter
I'ma hold it down, still write my letters
Bitch come around, must've seen my Patek
Still selling to the addict, used to be the way I eat
Send a Wocky to my dad, say he been having problems sleepin'
Keep my music to myself, really don't wanna do no features
I can't wait 'til I see you, fill in on what's happenin'
Niggas hating on me, prolly mad that I'm a rapper
I had to check the luggage, can't be traveling, too much baggage
I thought niggas was happy, real talk, I seen it all
RIP to Reecee, you the one I see in all us
And, yeah, a nigga still doing wrong, still
Yeah, I still pick up the phone, still
Swear to God, bro, I wish that I could come get you
All those people 'round really ain't my niggas
And, yeah, a nigga still doing wrong, still
Yeah, I still pick up the phone, still
Still doing work for my son
Still in my bag, still on my own
And, yeah, a nigga still doing wrong, still
Yeah, I still pick up the phone, still
Swear to God, bro, I wish that I could come get you
All those people 'round really ain't my niggas
And, yeah, a nigga still doing wrong, still
Yeah, I still pick up the phone, still
Still doing work for my son
Still in my bag
Money gon' hurt you, how you don't feel me
Niggas talkin' crazy, boy, I swear that shit kill me
Hold you down forever
As long as you real, we gon' always be together
Label tryna tell me to switch my style
Say I'm in the hood too much and I'm too wild
Long as y'all get yours, I'ma get mine
Old lawyer takin', say I probably gotta sit down
Gotti just called, they freed my dawg
When shit ain't going right, wish it was me and not y'all
F*ck paying the lawyer, bro, I wanna come get you
Wish you had a bond, you know money ain't the issue (the issue)
And, yeah, a nigga still doing wrong, still
Yeah, I still pick up the phone, still
Swear to God, bro, I wish that I could come get you
All those people 'round really ain't my niggas
And, yeah, a nigga still doing wrong, still
Yeah, I still pick up the phone, still
Still doing work for my son
Still in my bag, still on my own
Merey just wrote me, doggy bone, you got it
Keep making us proud or all of this shit don't matter
I'ma hold it down, still write my letters
Bitch come around, must've seen my Patek
Still selling to the addict, used to be the way I eat
Send a Wocky to my dad, say he been having problems sleepin'
Keep my music to myself, really don't wanna do no features
I can't wait 'til I see you, fill in on what's happenin'
Niggas hating on me, prolly mad that I'm a rapper
I had to check the luggage, can't be traveling, too much baggage
I thought niggas was happy, real talk, I seen it all
RIP to Reecee, you the one I see in all us
And, yeah, a nigga still doing wrong, still
Yeah, I still pick up the phone, still
Swear to God, bro, I wish that I could come get you
All those people 'round really ain't my niggas
And, yeah, a nigga still doing wrong, still
Yeah, I still pick up the phone, still
Still doing work for my son
Still in my bag, still on my own
And, yeah, a nigga still doing wrong, still
Yeah, I still pick up the phone, still
Swear to God, bro, I wish that I could come get you
All those people 'round really ain't my niggas
And, yeah, a nigga still doing wrong, still
Yeah, I still pick up the phone, still
Still doing work for my son
Still in my bag
Writer: Dion Hayes, TayTayMadeIt
Copyright: Lyrics © GREAT SOUTH BAY MUSIC GROUP INC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © GREAT SOUTH BAY MUSIC GROUP INC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Quez Free
(Bitch, you know Antt did the beat)
Bitch, you know Antt did the-
Mr. How The F*ck He Make It From The Bottom
Extensions on the choppers, I'm a killer, not a robber
Fentanyl, Oxy', exotics, spin all, catch me a body
Rent, dawg, been gettin' high why? (Tell me somethin')
Ayy, we was tryna catch a five, send his ass to Mott's
Quez by the mail, told Searge' to get 'em out
Quez wanna chill, I come and get you know
Tez with whatever, bitch, just stay up out the box
Ayy, Spazzo, I just blew a million cash, is my bag low? F*ck nah
I sell verses now, f*ck, dawg
Drekk been on my ass, she just heard I got a 'Cat
This bitch go over two hunnid, this the one they gotta catch
Put a pussy on her shirt without permission, I don't need it
Put a pussy in the dirt for all that dissin'
I should start by doin' all my verses out the kitchen, I'm a whippin' ass
And I ain't fightin' no more neither, dawg, I'll blick his ass
Lately, we been dodgin' indictments
Lately, we been f*ckin' niggas' hoes, ridin' strikers
I just had to send a couple phones up to Mylin, can you hear me now?
Don't even ask about a bitch if he ain't with me now
Lately, I been gettin' to the bag
Lately, I been sendin' to the Nat 'stead of the Nash
But I'll still stuff a freak bitch and make her drag
Lately, I been throwin' fours up, droppin' fives
Mr. I Just Bought A Red Eye, I heard them bitches dangerous
Bitch, if all them niggas dead, why the f*ck y'all still claimin'?
Shoot him twice and get him famous
I'll turn into the devil, mama know that I'm angel
I can't say I hate all Bloods, a couple of my niggas bangin'
Big gang shit, I post a bitch in the city, you think I ain't hit?
I got her f*ckin' my nigga, we on the same tip
Rosé bottles, case full of Cristal
Used to be thuggin', doggy, he a bitch now
Wayburn and Whittier, a couple blocks from 6 Mile
I don't like no pictures Bitch, I don't do no kissin'
I ain't squattin' shit and I put that on my nigga
Lately, we been dodgin' indictments
Lately, we been f*ckin' niggas' hoes, ridin' strikers
I just had to send a couple phones up to Mylin, can you hear me now?
Don't even ask about a bitch if he ain't with me now
Lately, I been gettin' to the bag
Lately, I been sendin' to the Nat 'stead of the Nash
But I'll still stuff a freak bitch and make her drag
Lately, I been throwin' fours up, droppin' fives
Bitch, you know Antt did the-
Mr. How The F*ck He Make It From The Bottom
Extensions on the choppers, I'm a killer, not a robber
Fentanyl, Oxy', exotics, spin all, catch me a body
Rent, dawg, been gettin' high why? (Tell me somethin')
Ayy, we was tryna catch a five, send his ass to Mott's
Quez by the mail, told Searge' to get 'em out
Quez wanna chill, I come and get you know
Tez with whatever, bitch, just stay up out the box
Ayy, Spazzo, I just blew a million cash, is my bag low? F*ck nah
I sell verses now, f*ck, dawg
Drekk been on my ass, she just heard I got a 'Cat
This bitch go over two hunnid, this the one they gotta catch
Put a pussy on her shirt without permission, I don't need it
Put a pussy in the dirt for all that dissin'
I should start by doin' all my verses out the kitchen, I'm a whippin' ass
And I ain't fightin' no more neither, dawg, I'll blick his ass
Lately, we been dodgin' indictments
Lately, we been f*ckin' niggas' hoes, ridin' strikers
I just had to send a couple phones up to Mylin, can you hear me now?
Don't even ask about a bitch if he ain't with me now
Lately, I been gettin' to the bag
Lately, I been sendin' to the Nat 'stead of the Nash
But I'll still stuff a freak bitch and make her drag
Lately, I been throwin' fours up, droppin' fives
Mr. I Just Bought A Red Eye, I heard them bitches dangerous
Bitch, if all them niggas dead, why the f*ck y'all still claimin'?
Shoot him twice and get him famous
I'll turn into the devil, mama know that I'm angel
I can't say I hate all Bloods, a couple of my niggas bangin'
Big gang shit, I post a bitch in the city, you think I ain't hit?
I got her f*ckin' my nigga, we on the same tip
Rosé bottles, case full of Cristal
Used to be thuggin', doggy, he a bitch now
Wayburn and Whittier, a couple blocks from 6 Mile
I don't like no pictures Bitch, I don't do no kissin'
I ain't squattin' shit and I put that on my nigga
Lately, we been dodgin' indictments
Lately, we been f*ckin' niggas' hoes, ridin' strikers
I just had to send a couple phones up to Mylin, can you hear me now?
Don't even ask about a bitch if he ain't with me now
Lately, I been gettin' to the bag
Lately, I been sendin' to the Nat 'stead of the Nash
But I'll still stuff a freak bitch and make her drag
Lately, I been throwin' fours up, droppin' fives
Writer: Anthony Mathis, Dion Hayes
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Please
Rollies, Patek Philippes
Free dem boys
I'm really nine and O, youngin', catch my drift?
Opps wanna score so bad, they'll prolly stretch my bitch
I'm like, "Please, please"
Richard, Rollies, Patek Phillipes
Still whip stuff, still gun shit down
Club, brought the check, f*ck around and get fined
Main bitch a ten still
If I don't wanna f*ck her, my mans will
Lotta undercovers in the hood now
Free dem boys, I'm good now
I'm like, "Please, she obsessed"
Run off with a quarter, get stretched (bah)
I bought lawyers for all of my niggas
Even though I'm rich, ain't payin' no ticket (at all)
Chase that bag, I'ma chase that chicken (yeah)
Give my last, "Bro, whack that witness"
Still drop fives, I'ma stand on that
Hunnid grams, put a hunnid grams on that
Duggy in the 'burbs, my fans O-D
Prolly on Dre if it ain't on me
Young nigga got heart, shit can't be taught
So I roll with them young niggas y'all can't teach
Duck, shoot, f*ck school
Still get forty-six for my Blues
'21 years, nigga, when I zoom
'21 Track', nigga, when I skirt
Still servin' crack, nigga, not Percs
Fifteen racks, youngin' on go
Prolly made fifty thousand off weed
Ain't no jokin' 'round, sellin' like dope
'Fore I pour out, Drekk favorite line, "Dugg, slow down"
She love Chanel with her toes out
F*ck wastin' time, what we on now?
I'm like, "Please, please"
Might get forty-eight for these jeans
Keepin' in contacts with the fiends (come here)
Sprite been goin' up like lean
I miss Woo, nigga, I miss Reece
I miss Neff, nigga, I miss Skeet
Bullets killed Lou, damn near killed me
I can't even go and talk to his son
Life been hard, ain't been no fun
Caught two cases, still blow my gun
Hunnid M race, after that I quit
Coco Chanel all on my bitch
Quarter million easy, nigga, ask about me
If I ain't had weed, then I had the mouse
Check that couch, yeah
I'm like, "Please, please"
Richard, Rollies, Patek Phillipes
Still whip stuff, still gun shit down
Club, brought the chain, f*ck around and get fired
Main bitch a ten still
If I don't wanna f*ck her, my mans will
Lotta undercovers in the hood now
Free dem boys, I'm good now
Free dem boys
I'm really nine and O, youngin', catch my drift?
Opps wanna score so bad, they'll prolly stretch my bitch
I'm like, "Please, please"
Richard, Rollies, Patek Phillipes
Still whip stuff, still gun shit down
Club, brought the check, f*ck around and get fined
Main bitch a ten still
If I don't wanna f*ck her, my mans will
Lotta undercovers in the hood now
Free dem boys, I'm good now
I'm like, "Please, she obsessed"
Run off with a quarter, get stretched (bah)
I bought lawyers for all of my niggas
Even though I'm rich, ain't payin' no ticket (at all)
Chase that bag, I'ma chase that chicken (yeah)
Give my last, "Bro, whack that witness"
Still drop fives, I'ma stand on that
Hunnid grams, put a hunnid grams on that
Duggy in the 'burbs, my fans O-D
Prolly on Dre if it ain't on me
Young nigga got heart, shit can't be taught
So I roll with them young niggas y'all can't teach
Duck, shoot, f*ck school
Still get forty-six for my Blues
'21 years, nigga, when I zoom
'21 Track', nigga, when I skirt
Still servin' crack, nigga, not Percs
Fifteen racks, youngin' on go
Prolly made fifty thousand off weed
Ain't no jokin' 'round, sellin' like dope
'Fore I pour out, Drekk favorite line, "Dugg, slow down"
She love Chanel with her toes out
F*ck wastin' time, what we on now?
I'm like, "Please, please"
Might get forty-eight for these jeans
Keepin' in contacts with the fiends (come here)
Sprite been goin' up like lean
I miss Woo, nigga, I miss Reece
I miss Neff, nigga, I miss Skeet
Bullets killed Lou, damn near killed me
I can't even go and talk to his son
Life been hard, ain't been no fun
Caught two cases, still blow my gun
Hunnid M race, after that I quit
Coco Chanel all on my bitch
Quarter million easy, nigga, ask about me
If I ain't had weed, then I had the mouse
Check that couch, yeah
I'm like, "Please, please"
Richard, Rollies, Patek Phillipes
Still whip stuff, still gun shit down
Club, brought the chain, f*ck around and get fired
Main bitch a ten still
If I don't wanna f*ck her, my mans will
Lotta undercovers in the hood now
Free dem boys, I'm good now
Writer: Aleksandr Poroshin, Dion Hayes, Monique Diamond, Tyler McCann
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Rose Gold
F*ck with me (free dem)
F*ck with me (what they call you?)
F*ck with me
Call me Mr. Rose Gold (who the hell is Carlos?)
Everything froze (yeah, everything)
F*ck a five, forever throwin' fours
All my niggas know I used to sell dope (word)
Come and get you some (yeah)
Fentanyl for the eighty, come and get you ones
Ayy, I don't wanna have no baby, bitch, what tip you on?
Ask that ho who dick she on
I still sell them bricks for low, I f*ck with that piccolo
Ask around, I'm six and O, pass that lot, I'm gettin' stoned
I ring my bitch, freaky textin', wanna f*ck
"Bae, can I bring my bitch?"
Say that pussy wet, she love me, watch her sing my shit
How the f*ck you niggas judgin'? I was just locked up
Forty ones, all flooded, bezel been rocked up
These young niggas come from nothin', why you won't stop us
Dawg, weed, lean and pills, this a one-stop truck
Doggy losin' interest, bitch, yeah, once I f*ck
All the real hoes tucked, damn near can't be touched
Somebody bound to make you crazy
Why it can't be us? Why it can't be me?
I'm in that new GT, cream, dark blue seats
I cashed out on that bitch
Meek just hit me for a verse, I passed out on that bitch
Drekk got two APs, a Richard and a house on her neck
I don't care 'bout who he killed, stop acknowledgin' rats, bitch
Call me Mr. Rose Gold, everything froze (yeah, everything)
F*ck a five, forever throwin' fours
All my niggas know I used to sell dope (word)
Come and get you some (yeah)
Fentanyl for the eighty, come and get you ones
Ayy, I don't wanna have no baby, bitch, what tip you on?
Ask that ho who dick she on (yeah, yeah)
I still sell them bricks for low (yeah)
I f*ck with that piccolo (yeah, yeah, yeah)
2020, niggas know who killed the most
Told lil' bro they scared, we somewhere close, so don't make Insta posts
Drug traffickin', don't come 'round askin', come get instant quotes
Doggy know I don't focus on rap and I'm still sellin' dope
I got it out, not tucked, in my chopper I trust
It wasn't easy takin' over but I had to drop my nuts
I know it's some crucial bloody brothers that hate my guts
We be whackin' shit for real, they be beefin' for PR stunts
So if it's up, then it's stuck
Rappers cappin', got they yeekies in they trunks
It's on my lap and I don't clutch
So if I up, nigga, duck
Hit at least one every month, maybe two if they get bold
Like my connect f*ck with them strippers, I got plugs on them poles
Call me Mr. Rose Gold, everything froze (yeah, everything)
F*ck a five, forever throwin' fours
All my niggas know I used to sell dope (word)
Come and get you some (yeah)
Fentanyl for the eighty, come and get you one
Ayy, I don't wanna have no baby, bitch, what tip you on?
Ask that hoe who dick she on
I still sell them bricks for low, I f*ck with that piccolo
Maybach truck, could get the Ghost, f*ck it, Gotti, get 'em both
I f*ck with that coke so much I signed to my nigga (CMG)
Keep that shit in Memphis (why?), 'cause I be down with my nigga
If they send it, I got it, not the Richie, the Patek
All my bitches be laughin', why? Shit used to be funny
Them ten thousand stacks, nigga? Them used to be hunnids
And them bitches y'all walkin' with? Them used to be runners
Call me Mr. Rose Gold, everything froze (yeah, everything)
F*ck a five, forever throwin' fours
All my niggas know I used to sell dope (word)
Come and get you some (yeah)
Fentanyl for the eighty, come and get you one
Ayy, I don't wanna have no baby, bitch, what tip you on?
Ask that hoe who dick she on
I still sell them bricks for low, I f*ck with that piccolo
F*ck with me (what they call you?)
F*ck with me
Call me Mr. Rose Gold (who the hell is Carlos?)
Everything froze (yeah, everything)
F*ck a five, forever throwin' fours
All my niggas know I used to sell dope (word)
Come and get you some (yeah)
Fentanyl for the eighty, come and get you ones
Ayy, I don't wanna have no baby, bitch, what tip you on?
Ask that ho who dick she on
I still sell them bricks for low, I f*ck with that piccolo
Ask around, I'm six and O, pass that lot, I'm gettin' stoned
I ring my bitch, freaky textin', wanna f*ck
"Bae, can I bring my bitch?"
Say that pussy wet, she love me, watch her sing my shit
How the f*ck you niggas judgin'? I was just locked up
Forty ones, all flooded, bezel been rocked up
These young niggas come from nothin', why you won't stop us
Dawg, weed, lean and pills, this a one-stop truck
Doggy losin' interest, bitch, yeah, once I f*ck
All the real hoes tucked, damn near can't be touched
Somebody bound to make you crazy
Why it can't be us? Why it can't be me?
I'm in that new GT, cream, dark blue seats
I cashed out on that bitch
Meek just hit me for a verse, I passed out on that bitch
Drekk got two APs, a Richard and a house on her neck
I don't care 'bout who he killed, stop acknowledgin' rats, bitch
Call me Mr. Rose Gold, everything froze (yeah, everything)
F*ck a five, forever throwin' fours
All my niggas know I used to sell dope (word)
Come and get you some (yeah)
Fentanyl for the eighty, come and get you ones
Ayy, I don't wanna have no baby, bitch, what tip you on?
Ask that ho who dick she on (yeah, yeah)
I still sell them bricks for low (yeah)
I f*ck with that piccolo (yeah, yeah, yeah)
2020, niggas know who killed the most
Told lil' bro they scared, we somewhere close, so don't make Insta posts
Drug traffickin', don't come 'round askin', come get instant quotes
Doggy know I don't focus on rap and I'm still sellin' dope
I got it out, not tucked, in my chopper I trust
It wasn't easy takin' over but I had to drop my nuts
I know it's some crucial bloody brothers that hate my guts
We be whackin' shit for real, they be beefin' for PR stunts
So if it's up, then it's stuck
Rappers cappin', got they yeekies in they trunks
It's on my lap and I don't clutch
So if I up, nigga, duck
Hit at least one every month, maybe two if they get bold
Like my connect f*ck with them strippers, I got plugs on them poles
Call me Mr. Rose Gold, everything froze (yeah, everything)
F*ck a five, forever throwin' fours
All my niggas know I used to sell dope (word)
Come and get you some (yeah)
Fentanyl for the eighty, come and get you one
Ayy, I don't wanna have no baby, bitch, what tip you on?
Ask that hoe who dick she on
I still sell them bricks for low, I f*ck with that piccolo
Maybach truck, could get the Ghost, f*ck it, Gotti, get 'em both
I f*ck with that coke so much I signed to my nigga (CMG)
Keep that shit in Memphis (why?), 'cause I be down with my nigga
If they send it, I got it, not the Richie, the Patek
All my bitches be laughin', why? Shit used to be funny
Them ten thousand stacks, nigga? Them used to be hunnids
And them bitches y'all walkin' with? Them used to be runners
Call me Mr. Rose Gold, everything froze (yeah, everything)
F*ck a five, forever throwin' fours
All my niggas know I used to sell dope (word)
Come and get you some (yeah)
Fentanyl for the eighty, come and get you one
Ayy, I don't wanna have no baby, bitch, what tip you on?
Ask that hoe who dick she on
I still sell them bricks for low, I f*ck with that piccolo
Writer: Carlo Anthony Coxen II, Dion Hayes, George Stone III
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Judge Please
Bad bitches still dick suckin'
A nigga with money, heard a nigga broke (yeah)
In the hood for thirty days straight, f*ckin' with the bros (yeah, bros)
Never catch an nigga like me lackin' (ho)
And if a nigga did, I ain't trippin', shit happens
Back to back Rolls trucks, Miami in November (Ray-Ray)
Gotti what's the hold up? I'm waitin' on five M's
Told Mell and Quez, "Spin, he ain't dead, spin again"
He ain't dead, spin again, Doggy somethin' gotta give
(Mook got the keys jumpin')
Condo off the water, still in million-dollar cribs
Buy my bitch whatever, I get million-dollar head
Still dap it up with Tez, even though he doin' the covers
Send him pictures every time, gotta let him know I love him
Shonny tell them bitches f*ck 'em, free dem boys, free my brother
Nigga, and that'll never change
Gotta hold 'em down, Doggy they'd do the same
Won't never tell 'em, "I can't"
Me, Arty, Grimace and Mane, came a long way
Judge, please help me with my freedom
Show me how to eat without drugs 'cause I'm fiendin'
Cuz, please help me with my life
I done tried weed, nigga, I done tried pints
Judge, please help me with my freedom
Show me how to eat without drugs 'cause I'm fiendin'
Cuz, please help me with my life
Nigga, I done tried weed, nigga, I done tried pints
I done sold all the beans, got rid of my dough
Stackin' my cheese, tryna free my bros
Without my son, my house not home
Ten f*ckin' chains, these lights not on
Still ridin' my fours, don't care if I'm busy
Pick up my phone, make my hoes send pictures
Tell my nigga, I miss 'em, I'm never ridin' against 'em
If I ain't stop for the hook then I was hidin' the pistol
I still look out for the plug for all the times we done sent 'em
My niggas showed me some love, I walked away from that kitchen
Like, what would you do?
Fast forward ten million later, I'm all on YouTube (YouTube, YouTube, ayy, ayy)
Judge, please help me with my freedom
Show me how to eat without drugs 'cause I'm fiendin'
Cuz, please help me with my life
I done tried weed, nigga, I done tried pints
Judge, please help me with my freedom
Show me how to eat without drugs 'cause I'm fiendin'
Cuz, please help me with my life
Nigga, I done tried weed, nigga, I done tried pints
A nigga with money, heard a nigga broke (yeah)
In the hood for thirty days straight, f*ckin' with the bros (yeah, bros)
Never catch an nigga like me lackin' (ho)
And if a nigga did, I ain't trippin', shit happens
Back to back Rolls trucks, Miami in November (Ray-Ray)
Gotti what's the hold up? I'm waitin' on five M's
Told Mell and Quez, "Spin, he ain't dead, spin again"
He ain't dead, spin again, Doggy somethin' gotta give
(Mook got the keys jumpin')
Condo off the water, still in million-dollar cribs
Buy my bitch whatever, I get million-dollar head
Still dap it up with Tez, even though he doin' the covers
Send him pictures every time, gotta let him know I love him
Shonny tell them bitches f*ck 'em, free dem boys, free my brother
Nigga, and that'll never change
Gotta hold 'em down, Doggy they'd do the same
Won't never tell 'em, "I can't"
Me, Arty, Grimace and Mane, came a long way
Judge, please help me with my freedom
Show me how to eat without drugs 'cause I'm fiendin'
Cuz, please help me with my life
I done tried weed, nigga, I done tried pints
Judge, please help me with my freedom
Show me how to eat without drugs 'cause I'm fiendin'
Cuz, please help me with my life
Nigga, I done tried weed, nigga, I done tried pints
I done sold all the beans, got rid of my dough
Stackin' my cheese, tryna free my bros
Without my son, my house not home
Ten f*ckin' chains, these lights not on
Still ridin' my fours, don't care if I'm busy
Pick up my phone, make my hoes send pictures
Tell my nigga, I miss 'em, I'm never ridin' against 'em
If I ain't stop for the hook then I was hidin' the pistol
I still look out for the plug for all the times we done sent 'em
My niggas showed me some love, I walked away from that kitchen
Like, what would you do?
Fast forward ten million later, I'm all on YouTube (YouTube, YouTube, ayy, ayy)
Judge, please help me with my freedom
Show me how to eat without drugs 'cause I'm fiendin'
Cuz, please help me with my life
I done tried weed, nigga, I done tried pints
Judge, please help me with my freedom
Show me how to eat without drugs 'cause I'm fiendin'
Cuz, please help me with my life
Nigga, I done tried weed, nigga, I done tried pints
Writer: Brayon Nelson, Damion Deron Williams, Dion Hayes
Copyright: Lyrics © GREAT SOUTH BAY MUSIC GROUP INC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © GREAT SOUTH BAY MUSIC GROUP INC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Still Catching Cases
(Shoutout 808 Melo)
We goin' to New York on this
Go (4PF)
I made six hunnid on Rece, y'all could blame the epidemic
I spent five thousand on fleeces, came from wearin' Akademiks
If it ain't weed, then I'm against it
I keep drums, shoutout the Pistons
Won't fall out 'bout shit, we bros
'Cause I'm the one more than D-Rose
Shoot us kinda often 'cause we on
Chrome Heart leather, hoodie by VLONE
That's why I made this off my name
I ain't in the safe, spend it all on the gang
Still catchin' cases, give a f*ck about fame
Cross that line, f*ck nigga gettin' painted
Damn near died '010, '09
One-fifty to the lawyer, help a nigga get back
Four models too, these hoes get mad
Used to wear Trues, bitches think I'm lyin'
Ain't flew commercial, everything G5
See me in person, yeah, bitch, get back
Ain't got it on me, ho still'll get smacked
Hard for me to focus, I'm from the streets
When it come to drugs, got what you need
Turntest in the city, come sign to me
Rowdy rollin', they ride with me
Chops and Fs, no, not with me
Hard for me to focus, I'm from the bottom
Won't f*ck shit, bitch, not no model
4 Pockets Full, me, Baby, and Rylo
Pull up on Sparks, North Memphis with Gotti
Gave bro thirty, talkin' 'bout he a driver
Kill or be killed, all he know is survival
Think she turnt, bitch f*ckin' an opp'
Don't let shit slide, bitch still'll get dropped
Give me that gun, that's all I need (uh)
I see a opp', he gon' O-D (grrt, baow)
I took a Perc', keep fallin' asleep (uh)
I see mad money in my dreams
All these real niggas in my team (uh)
Jerry, don't share no lean
This is the truth, uh (this is the truth)
I call up bitches, they come in a group (they do, baow, yeah)
I got rich and I got the juice (look, bitch, uh)
This is a two-door coupe (skrrt)
Watch how I move on through (uh)
I need a new Porsche too (skrrt, I need a new Porsche too, uh)
Yeah, they gotta watch how I'm doin' things
Got a mover with me, he be movin' things
Got a shooter with me, he be shootin' things (brrt)
If I see a opp, my whole mood'll change (baow)
That is old drip, you need a newer chain (that is old drip, you need a newer chain)
They throwin' shots, but they missin' (baow)
Should take them niggas to the shootin' range (baow)
This is way too elite (huh), she tryna suck me out of my sleep
It cost a a hundred K for these seats (uh, skrrt)
I bulletproofed the whole Jeep (grrt)
She want me to go deep (uh), them niggas is police (what?)
She want me to go deep (huh? Huh?), these niggas is police (uh, yeah)
I get money, that's all I need (I need)
I sip Henny, not lean (nah)
I take meds, just not codeine (codeine)
One more Perc' and I might O-D (O-D)
No, my daddy ain't raised no ho (no ho)
I can't ho shit out my sleep (bah)
Pay no attentions to these hoes (bah)
'Cause these hoes ain't payin' me, ah (bah, bah, bah-bah-bah-bah)
Huh? Uh, we number one, we the topic (uh, uh)
You lil' niggas is toxic and we do not listen to gossip (uh)
Uh (nah), I go Su Young with this chopstick (grrt, bah)
Or Buju with this 'matic
And I'm a bad boy movin' tactic (uh, uh)
New Glock-9 came plastic (new Glock-9 came)
New bad bitch fantastic (new bad bitch)
Lil' bougie bitch that like her ass kissed (lil' bougie bitch like her)
I took eighty to Eric da Jeweler to buss down my AP and buss down my glasses
New AP on freeze, nigga, say, "Cheese," when a nigga flash it
We goin' to New York on this
Go (4PF)
I made six hunnid on Rece, y'all could blame the epidemic
I spent five thousand on fleeces, came from wearin' Akademiks
If it ain't weed, then I'm against it
I keep drums, shoutout the Pistons
Won't fall out 'bout shit, we bros
'Cause I'm the one more than D-Rose
Shoot us kinda often 'cause we on
Chrome Heart leather, hoodie by VLONE
That's why I made this off my name
I ain't in the safe, spend it all on the gang
Still catchin' cases, give a f*ck about fame
Cross that line, f*ck nigga gettin' painted
Damn near died '010, '09
One-fifty to the lawyer, help a nigga get back
Four models too, these hoes get mad
Used to wear Trues, bitches think I'm lyin'
Ain't flew commercial, everything G5
See me in person, yeah, bitch, get back
Ain't got it on me, ho still'll get smacked
Hard for me to focus, I'm from the streets
When it come to drugs, got what you need
Turntest in the city, come sign to me
Rowdy rollin', they ride with me
Chops and Fs, no, not with me
Hard for me to focus, I'm from the bottom
Won't f*ck shit, bitch, not no model
4 Pockets Full, me, Baby, and Rylo
Pull up on Sparks, North Memphis with Gotti
Gave bro thirty, talkin' 'bout he a driver
Kill or be killed, all he know is survival
Think she turnt, bitch f*ckin' an opp'
Don't let shit slide, bitch still'll get dropped
Give me that gun, that's all I need (uh)
I see a opp', he gon' O-D (grrt, baow)
I took a Perc', keep fallin' asleep (uh)
I see mad money in my dreams
All these real niggas in my team (uh)
Jerry, don't share no lean
This is the truth, uh (this is the truth)
I call up bitches, they come in a group (they do, baow, yeah)
I got rich and I got the juice (look, bitch, uh)
This is a two-door coupe (skrrt)
Watch how I move on through (uh)
I need a new Porsche too (skrrt, I need a new Porsche too, uh)
Yeah, they gotta watch how I'm doin' things
Got a mover with me, he be movin' things
Got a shooter with me, he be shootin' things (brrt)
If I see a opp, my whole mood'll change (baow)
That is old drip, you need a newer chain (that is old drip, you need a newer chain)
They throwin' shots, but they missin' (baow)
Should take them niggas to the shootin' range (baow)
This is way too elite (huh), she tryna suck me out of my sleep
It cost a a hundred K for these seats (uh, skrrt)
I bulletproofed the whole Jeep (grrt)
She want me to go deep (uh), them niggas is police (what?)
She want me to go deep (huh? Huh?), these niggas is police (uh, yeah)
I get money, that's all I need (I need)
I sip Henny, not lean (nah)
I take meds, just not codeine (codeine)
One more Perc' and I might O-D (O-D)
No, my daddy ain't raised no ho (no ho)
I can't ho shit out my sleep (bah)
Pay no attentions to these hoes (bah)
'Cause these hoes ain't payin' me, ah (bah, bah, bah-bah-bah-bah)
Huh? Uh, we number one, we the topic (uh, uh)
You lil' niggas is toxic and we do not listen to gossip (uh)
Uh (nah), I go Su Young with this chopstick (grrt, bah)
Or Buju with this 'matic
And I'm a bad boy movin' tactic (uh, uh)
New Glock-9 came plastic (new Glock-9 came)
New bad bitch fantastic (new bad bitch)
Lil' bougie bitch that like her ass kissed (lil' bougie bitch like her)
I took eighty to Eric da Jeweler to buss down my AP and buss down my glasses
New AP on freeze, nigga, say, "Cheese," when a nigga flash it
Writer: Andre Loblack, Chad Marshall, Dion Hayes, Maxie Lee Ryles III
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
It Get Deeper Pt. 2
Never bite that hand that feed you, bro, niggas greedy
Never felt what it was like to be loved, bitches be cheatin'
Finally got my hand on some paper, I'm gettin' even
Main man turned to a hater, this shit is deep, over money
You would turn your back on your brother 'cause of money
I don't know a bitch who really love me, ain't it funny?
I could feel the East up with hunnids
Make a freak f*ck for nothin', I don't beef much at all
Still in the hood reminiscin' 'bout my dawgs
Every time my nigga call, I show out for him
My bitch been in the house, of course, I been goin' out more
But f*ck I need clout for? I can't be outscored
No, I can't be outscored
For all my niggas that's callin', bitch, I'm still ballin'
Forty-three for these and I paid Mike Jordan
But a player Mike Stockton, we just sell 'em like Ox'
See a hatin' nigga, pop 'em, gettin' rich, took all they options
Bitch, I grew up with the doctors, you lil' niggas impostors
Might invest a couple houses all in Houston for my youngins
Lookin' for the pints of Wocky
Who ain't gettin' money? Stop it
I might up a million dollars
I done f*cked a million bitches
Bitch, I got a million problems, nah, for real
Next time a nigga diss us, he gettin' killed
Bitches think they slick ain't slick enough, baby, I see you
If you think you can do this shit without me, then so be it
The rest of my time and my money, gettin' spent on the pills
Crib on her heels, bad bitch who like to chills
Doggybone on her nails, free my f*ckin' uncle Nell
Million dollars on this belt, I don't give a f*ck no more
Real recognize real, no, I don't trust no ho
Real recognize real, no, I don't trust
Tell me if you with me, my nigga, or you gon' leave?
My main man turned to a hater off of some cheese
Never bite that hand that feed you, bro, niggas greedy
Never felt what it was like to be loved, bitches be cheatin'
Finally got my hand on some paper, I'm gettin' even
Main man turned to a hater, this shit is deep, over money
You would turn your back on your brother 'cause of money
I don't know a bitch who really love me, ain't it funny?
I could feel the East up with hunnids
Make a freak f*ck for nothin', I don't beef much at all
Still in the hood reminiscin' 'bout my dawgs
Every time my nigga call, I show out for him
My bitch been in the house, of course, I been goin' out more
F*ck I need clout for? I can't be outscored
You know a nigga came from the slums
Was crackin' to the Pastor, still got faith in all the guns
He in hell with a drum on a nigga, if not three
It got one a nigga, give 'em my all, I don't stunt on my niggas
Tell me if you with me, my nigga, or you gon' leave?
Why I never get the same love? 'Cause I'm me
And my judge told me you could be somethin' special, on Reece
How the f*ck am I stressed, I thought I ain't need you
Back and forth on this tether, it ain't easy
Mama please show me how to save my money
Remember, countin' down, ninety days, I'm comin'
Never bite that hand that feed you, bro, niggas greedy
Never felt what it was like to be loved, bitches be cheatin'
Finally got my hand on some paper, I'm gettin' even
Main man turned to a hater, this shit is deep, over money
You would turn your back on your brother 'cause of money
I don't know a bitch who really love me, ain't it funny?
I could feel the East up with hunnids
Make a freak f*ck for nothin', I don't beef much at all
Still in the hood reminiscin' 'bout my dawgs
Every time my nigga call, I show out for him
My bitch been in the house, of course, I been goin' out more
F*ck I need clout for? I can't be outscored
I can't be out-
Come on, come on
Never felt what it was like to be loved, bitches be cheatin'
Finally got my hand on some paper, I'm gettin' even
Main man turned to a hater, this shit is deep, over money
You would turn your back on your brother 'cause of money
I don't know a bitch who really love me, ain't it funny?
I could feel the East up with hunnids
Make a freak f*ck for nothin', I don't beef much at all
Still in the hood reminiscin' 'bout my dawgs
Every time my nigga call, I show out for him
My bitch been in the house, of course, I been goin' out more
But f*ck I need clout for? I can't be outscored
No, I can't be outscored
For all my niggas that's callin', bitch, I'm still ballin'
Forty-three for these and I paid Mike Jordan
But a player Mike Stockton, we just sell 'em like Ox'
See a hatin' nigga, pop 'em, gettin' rich, took all they options
Bitch, I grew up with the doctors, you lil' niggas impostors
Might invest a couple houses all in Houston for my youngins
Lookin' for the pints of Wocky
Who ain't gettin' money? Stop it
I might up a million dollars
I done f*cked a million bitches
Bitch, I got a million problems, nah, for real
Next time a nigga diss us, he gettin' killed
Bitches think they slick ain't slick enough, baby, I see you
If you think you can do this shit without me, then so be it
The rest of my time and my money, gettin' spent on the pills
Crib on her heels, bad bitch who like to chills
Doggybone on her nails, free my f*ckin' uncle Nell
Million dollars on this belt, I don't give a f*ck no more
Real recognize real, no, I don't trust no ho
Real recognize real, no, I don't trust
Tell me if you with me, my nigga, or you gon' leave?
My main man turned to a hater off of some cheese
Never bite that hand that feed you, bro, niggas greedy
Never felt what it was like to be loved, bitches be cheatin'
Finally got my hand on some paper, I'm gettin' even
Main man turned to a hater, this shit is deep, over money
You would turn your back on your brother 'cause of money
I don't know a bitch who really love me, ain't it funny?
I could feel the East up with hunnids
Make a freak f*ck for nothin', I don't beef much at all
Still in the hood reminiscin' 'bout my dawgs
Every time my nigga call, I show out for him
My bitch been in the house, of course, I been goin' out more
F*ck I need clout for? I can't be outscored
You know a nigga came from the slums
Was crackin' to the Pastor, still got faith in all the guns
He in hell with a drum on a nigga, if not three
It got one a nigga, give 'em my all, I don't stunt on my niggas
Tell me if you with me, my nigga, or you gon' leave?
Why I never get the same love? 'Cause I'm me
And my judge told me you could be somethin' special, on Reece
How the f*ck am I stressed, I thought I ain't need you
Back and forth on this tether, it ain't easy
Mama please show me how to save my money
Remember, countin' down, ninety days, I'm comin'
Never bite that hand that feed you, bro, niggas greedy
Never felt what it was like to be loved, bitches be cheatin'
Finally got my hand on some paper, I'm gettin' even
Main man turned to a hater, this shit is deep, over money
You would turn your back on your brother 'cause of money
I don't know a bitch who really love me, ain't it funny?
I could feel the East up with hunnids
Make a freak f*ck for nothin', I don't beef much at all
Still in the hood reminiscin' 'bout my dawgs
Every time my nigga call, I show out for him
My bitch been in the house, of course, I been goin' out more
F*ck I need clout for? I can't be outscored
I can't be out-
Come on, come on
Writer: Danny Lee Snoddgrass, Dion Hayes, Nathan Scott Lamarche, Rio Francisco Levya, Tanner Katich
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
And I Gangbang
(Pooh, you a fool for this one)
(Murda on the beat, so it's not nice)
Ayy, this bitch been askin' Dreka for a threesome, only us for now
Yeah, I got a bitch, don't wanna kiss, but we could f*ck for now
Youngin sellin' mix, I'm sellin' Fent', it's still the same thing
Police on my dick, they know I'm thuggin' and I gangbang
Damn near in the chain gang with all these f*ckin' links on
King of the city, I should throw a f*ckin' mink on
Doubt I put my bike up, I'm clutchin' more than a driver (yeah)
Jetset with my baby, we f*ck and tippin' the pilot
She only fly if it's private, I'm only fightin' the body
Quinn ran off with that pole, I'm still yellin', "Free Robby"
All my niggas from the mud, more Crips than we got Bloods
They thinkin' that it's rap, I'm tellin' you, it was the drugs
Interrogation, tryna stop from laughin', bitch, I got a habit
Don't like f*ckin' with no condom, I like f*ckin' baby mamas
See, I grew up without a father, he alive, but shit, he gone
Know he proud a nigga winnin', by next winter, he'll be home
I pop wheelies in VLONE, ayy, Bari, where is my collab?
Probably make a million dollars, bitch, I made it off the bag
I heard Ced just got a 'Cat, I still can't wait to see G5
Put a hundred on who owe, make sure you give that shit to God
Skrrt, everybody get your roll on
Twenty-eight a bag, everybody turn the phone on
My killstreaks be solos, gas 'em and then I blitz (we on 'em)
Fifty-five a piece, might ass her and then the titties
I won't bash a bitch for cheatin', I just might ask a bitch to leave
From the back while grippin' weave, ayy, house party in this bitch
Bae got right, but I ain't trippin', I was already with a bitch
I sent all my fiends fishin', let me know if it's a ten
I play cool with all my exes in case I wanna f*ck again
I ain't locked up, I'm on tether, say it's up and bitch, it's up
All my old hoes in they feelings like I ain't f*cked them hoes enough
Put them bags up on that truck, give my last to see you free
How you mad, bitch, and I'm eatin'? Put my first one up for Reece
I sold work to all the deacons, what that bitch been askin' Dreka?
Ayy, this bitch been askin' Dreka for a threesome, only us for now
Yeah, I got a bitch, don't wanna kiss, but we could f*ck for now
Youngin sellin' mix, I'm sellin' Fent', it's still the same thing
Police on my dick, they know I'm thuggin' and I gangbang
(Murda on the beat, so it's not nice)
Ayy, this bitch been askin' Dreka for a threesome, only us for now
Yeah, I got a bitch, don't wanna kiss, but we could f*ck for now
Youngin sellin' mix, I'm sellin' Fent', it's still the same thing
Police on my dick, they know I'm thuggin' and I gangbang
Damn near in the chain gang with all these f*ckin' links on
King of the city, I should throw a f*ckin' mink on
Doubt I put my bike up, I'm clutchin' more than a driver (yeah)
Jetset with my baby, we f*ck and tippin' the pilot
She only fly if it's private, I'm only fightin' the body
Quinn ran off with that pole, I'm still yellin', "Free Robby"
All my niggas from the mud, more Crips than we got Bloods
They thinkin' that it's rap, I'm tellin' you, it was the drugs
Interrogation, tryna stop from laughin', bitch, I got a habit
Don't like f*ckin' with no condom, I like f*ckin' baby mamas
See, I grew up without a father, he alive, but shit, he gone
Know he proud a nigga winnin', by next winter, he'll be home
I pop wheelies in VLONE, ayy, Bari, where is my collab?
Probably make a million dollars, bitch, I made it off the bag
I heard Ced just got a 'Cat, I still can't wait to see G5
Put a hundred on who owe, make sure you give that shit to God
Skrrt, everybody get your roll on
Twenty-eight a bag, everybody turn the phone on
My killstreaks be solos, gas 'em and then I blitz (we on 'em)
Fifty-five a piece, might ass her and then the titties
I won't bash a bitch for cheatin', I just might ask a bitch to leave
From the back while grippin' weave, ayy, house party in this bitch
Bae got right, but I ain't trippin', I was already with a bitch
I sent all my fiends fishin', let me know if it's a ten
I play cool with all my exes in case I wanna f*ck again
I ain't locked up, I'm on tether, say it's up and bitch, it's up
All my old hoes in they feelings like I ain't f*cked them hoes enough
Put them bags up on that truck, give my last to see you free
How you mad, bitch, and I'm eatin'? Put my first one up for Reece
I sold work to all the deacons, what that bitch been askin' Dreka?
Ayy, this bitch been askin' Dreka for a threesome, only us for now
Yeah, I got a bitch, don't wanna kiss, but we could f*ck for now
Youngin sellin' mix, I'm sellin' Fent', it's still the same thing
Police on my dick, they know I'm thuggin' and I gangbang
Writer: Darryl Lorenzo Clemons, Dion Marquise Hayes
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Free Woo
I'm a no shoestring wearin' nigga, just straps
Nine out of ten of these hoes holdin' back
How the f*ck you did six years with four flat?
'Course Hot Boy and Will hang together, they both rats
Pull up in the hood, hot beams on the Wagon (skrrt)
My niggas call me Rollie, all my bitches call me Patek
Ho quit sayin' you could of had me, how?
Shout out Lil' Two, I'm the one who blew him down
Rest in peace, drop shit for extra cheese (ayy)
This here for Neff and Reese
Ayy, I don't 'member bettin' fast, hard times will never last
Told y'all I quit stumpin', I'm on my seventh slab
Somethin' 'bout this drug money make these bitches get off
Let me know, you can't see me, niggas, I'll take the tint off
We just left Soul Stage, blew about a ten ball
Free my nigga Woo, or should I call him Mr. Finna
Yeah, Gotti want a show but shit, I'm finna have a spin-off
Take a nigga ho, you never told me that you loved her
Fifty for a show, no back and forth, I'm sellin' drugs first
Hold me down, never know what tomorrow bring
Help me out, if I eat, we all eat
Ma, look at your baby
Still findin' 30s for the eighteen, yeah
I might come through in a hard top, we draggin'
I still save all of my car lots, I'm damaged
From hustlin' against the ball lot, I still live in the dog house
I'm known for goin' on Mars route, like throw it up
Hate on who? I'm goin' up
Ain't gotta flash, I show enough
Been in my bag, nigga, get in yours
Quarter mill' in cash, ain't shit in yours
Married for now, I'll get divorced, ayy
This bitch been actin' like she love me
Came from nothin', dawg, and we was thuggin'
How you gon' judge them?
Nigga ran off on my last and let me hurt him
Askin' doggy, would he rather be rappin' or sellin' 30s?
Youngest nigga but the first one in traffic behind the murders
In that 'Cat, I'm probably swervin', they troopers make me nervous
Young dog still into murders, throw that shit back like a jersey
Put a Patek on a baddie, a Patek on a
I put a Patek on a baddie
Hold me down, never know what tomorrow bring
Help me out, if I eat, we all eat
Ma, look at your baby
Still findin' thirties for the eighteen, yeah
I might come through in a hard top, we draggin'
I still save all of my car lots, I'm damaged
Free my nigga Woo
Free my nigga Woo
Nine out of ten of these hoes holdin' back
How the f*ck you did six years with four flat?
'Course Hot Boy and Will hang together, they both rats
Pull up in the hood, hot beams on the Wagon (skrrt)
My niggas call me Rollie, all my bitches call me Patek
Ho quit sayin' you could of had me, how?
Shout out Lil' Two, I'm the one who blew him down
Rest in peace, drop shit for extra cheese (ayy)
This here for Neff and Reese
Ayy, I don't 'member bettin' fast, hard times will never last
Told y'all I quit stumpin', I'm on my seventh slab
Somethin' 'bout this drug money make these bitches get off
Let me know, you can't see me, niggas, I'll take the tint off
We just left Soul Stage, blew about a ten ball
Free my nigga Woo, or should I call him Mr. Finna
Yeah, Gotti want a show but shit, I'm finna have a spin-off
Take a nigga ho, you never told me that you loved her
Fifty for a show, no back and forth, I'm sellin' drugs first
Hold me down, never know what tomorrow bring
Help me out, if I eat, we all eat
Ma, look at your baby
Still findin' 30s for the eighteen, yeah
I might come through in a hard top, we draggin'
I still save all of my car lots, I'm damaged
From hustlin' against the ball lot, I still live in the dog house
I'm known for goin' on Mars route, like throw it up
Hate on who? I'm goin' up
Ain't gotta flash, I show enough
Been in my bag, nigga, get in yours
Quarter mill' in cash, ain't shit in yours
Married for now, I'll get divorced, ayy
This bitch been actin' like she love me
Came from nothin', dawg, and we was thuggin'
How you gon' judge them?
Nigga ran off on my last and let me hurt him
Askin' doggy, would he rather be rappin' or sellin' 30s?
Youngest nigga but the first one in traffic behind the murders
In that 'Cat, I'm probably swervin', they troopers make me nervous
Young dog still into murders, throw that shit back like a jersey
Put a Patek on a baddie, a Patek on a
I put a Patek on a baddie
Hold me down, never know what tomorrow bring
Help me out, if I eat, we all eat
Ma, look at your baby
Still findin' thirties for the eighteen, yeah
I might come through in a hard top, we draggin'
I still save all of my car lots, I'm damaged
Free my nigga Woo
Free my nigga Woo
Writer: Dion Hayes
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Free Skeet
I might have to take it back
Remember late nights, prayin' that I make it back
Every night, a nigga strapped
Hustlin', hustlin', everything I do is for my brothers, brothers (luh you)
Grindin' in the club, people walkin' up, "Ayy, you remind me of"
Nah, I remind them of Dugg (R-R-Ry)
Hustlin', hustlin', still hold it down for my brother, brother
Two-tone AP, custom made, four Cubans on
I'm a f*ckin' slave, you know black lasts
Nigga, get baptized, Doggy them cap signs
How you know my judge was a nigga?
How you gon' judge another nigga?
F*ck it, just flood us with bitches
Pull up, Benz seat back (laid)
Doggy, you keep lackin' (how?)
Two bitches, three straps (baow)
Ain't no room for another nigga
Reminiscin' 'bout all of mine
See some f*cked shit, I call 'em out
Act crazy, we all in route with them choppers
Stackin' white hunnids 'til I feel like I'm a Nazi
For my nigga, Luca Brasi
Grew up killin', sellin' Oxy'
Who I'm missin'? Lil' Robb
Knowin' shit woulda been a little different with your guys
Woah, woah, still made it out with all my bros gone
Forever droppin' five, bring them fours
Saw my nigga half on his way
Prolly the only reason I be laughin' and playin'
I might have to take it back
Remember late nights, prayin' that I make it back
Every night, a nigga strapped
Hustlin', hustlin', everything I do is for my brothers, brothers (luh you)
Grindin' in the club, people walkin' up, "Ayy, you remind me of"
Nah, I remind them of Dugg (R-R-Ry)
Hustlin', hustlin', still hold it down for my brother, brother
Two-tone AP, custom made, four Cubans on
I'm a f*ckin' slave, you know black lasts
Nigga, get baptized, Doggy them cap signs
How you know my judge was a nigga?
How you gon' judge another nigga?
F*ck it, just flood us with bitches
Remember late nights, prayin' that I make it back
Every night, a nigga strapped
Hustlin', hustlin', everything I do is for my brothers, brothers (luh you)
Grindin' in the club, people walkin' up, "Ayy, you remind me of"
Nah, I remind them of Dugg (R-R-Ry)
Hustlin', hustlin', still hold it down for my brother, brother
Two-tone AP, custom made, four Cubans on
I'm a f*ckin' slave, you know black lasts
Nigga, get baptized, Doggy them cap signs
How you know my judge was a nigga?
How you gon' judge another nigga?
F*ck it, just flood us with bitches
Pull up, Benz seat back (laid)
Doggy, you keep lackin' (how?)
Two bitches, three straps (baow)
Ain't no room for another nigga
Reminiscin' 'bout all of mine
See some f*cked shit, I call 'em out
Act crazy, we all in route with them choppers
Stackin' white hunnids 'til I feel like I'm a Nazi
For my nigga, Luca Brasi
Grew up killin', sellin' Oxy'
Who I'm missin'? Lil' Robb
Knowin' shit woulda been a little different with your guys
Woah, woah, still made it out with all my bros gone
Forever droppin' five, bring them fours
Saw my nigga half on his way
Prolly the only reason I be laughin' and playin'
I might have to take it back
Remember late nights, prayin' that I make it back
Every night, a nigga strapped
Hustlin', hustlin', everything I do is for my brothers, brothers (luh you)
Grindin' in the club, people walkin' up, "Ayy, you remind me of"
Nah, I remind them of Dugg (R-R-Ry)
Hustlin', hustlin', still hold it down for my brother, brother
Two-tone AP, custom made, four Cubans on
I'm a f*ckin' slave, you know black lasts
Nigga, get baptized, Doggy them cap signs
How you know my judge was a nigga?
How you gon' judge another nigga?
F*ck it, just flood us with bitches
Writer: Dion Hayes, Ry Louis
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Free Me
(Antt did the track)
Free dem boys, free dem boys
Let me show you how life works, guns with the shit (Beat Gang)
Ayy
My youngin' caught a L, of course I'm makin' that knife work
'Cause ain't no guns in that bitch
I seen a nigga get a L before he got his life
I know a nigga got a deal but then he got indicted
Ain't no point in even fightin', "Yeah, I did that, judge"
After what happened to Doggy, bitch, I been back thuggin'
I can't really talk on phones, just send five of 'em for me
And I ain't puttin' paper on shit, I go handle 'em for me
I'm from the East side, look up the street signs, we made it
When Reece died, I seen them real niggas was fakin'
And I keep five hunnid in small bills for Baby
Never turn my back on my brother, mama, I love you
Half a million on a house, Val took care of me
Real niggas winnin', bitch, so I took care of the streets
Last of a dyin' breed, I still be buyin' lean
I stopped textin' my BM just to let her find peace
Yeah, I let my bitch count a half a ticket when she stressed out
Niggas know who run the city, pick your best five
How the f*ck you bust a Richard down with SIs?
How much a, yeah, one point VV?
Free dem boys, Dickie fits all on TV
Always yellin', "Free mine," never, "Free me," they need me
Tell her let me make her love me, I hate the nigga she f*ckin'
Inventory, seven hunnid, I got one on the way
Condo for f*ckin' bitches probably furnished by Baby
See, I grew up around killers (killers), robbers (robbers)
Jackson moonwalkin' around this beat, R.I.P. Michael Jackson
I ain't ever paid no taxes, all I know about is ashin'
Bring the ho up out Samantha, I want her to f*ck with Tony
Still'll pull up in the Zone, I ain't squashin' shit with Quan'
What the f*ck do y'all be on? I swear I see too many cameras
Bitch, you know that shit was bammer, turned a model to a dancer
I ain't stoppin' 'til they hear, I pop off more than veneers
On the 6, you know it's serious, how you know? 'Cause bitch, I'm here
A lot a money, a lot of jewelry, we ain't trippin' on you, period
Yeah, I let my bitch count a half a ticket when she stressed out
Niggas know who run the city, pick your best five
How the f*ck you bust a Richard down with SIs?
How much a, yeah, one point VV?
Free dem boys, Dickie fits all on TV
Always yellin', "Free mine," never, "Free me," they need me
Tell her let me make her love me, I hate the nigga she f*ckin'
(Beat Gang)
Free dem boys, free dem boys
Let me show you how life works, guns with the shit (Beat Gang)
Ayy
My youngin' caught a L, of course I'm makin' that knife work
'Cause ain't no guns in that bitch
I seen a nigga get a L before he got his life
I know a nigga got a deal but then he got indicted
Ain't no point in even fightin', "Yeah, I did that, judge"
After what happened to Doggy, bitch, I been back thuggin'
I can't really talk on phones, just send five of 'em for me
And I ain't puttin' paper on shit, I go handle 'em for me
I'm from the East side, look up the street signs, we made it
When Reece died, I seen them real niggas was fakin'
And I keep five hunnid in small bills for Baby
Never turn my back on my brother, mama, I love you
Half a million on a house, Val took care of me
Real niggas winnin', bitch, so I took care of the streets
Last of a dyin' breed, I still be buyin' lean
I stopped textin' my BM just to let her find peace
Yeah, I let my bitch count a half a ticket when she stressed out
Niggas know who run the city, pick your best five
How the f*ck you bust a Richard down with SIs?
How much a, yeah, one point VV?
Free dem boys, Dickie fits all on TV
Always yellin', "Free mine," never, "Free me," they need me
Tell her let me make her love me, I hate the nigga she f*ckin'
Inventory, seven hunnid, I got one on the way
Condo for f*ckin' bitches probably furnished by Baby
See, I grew up around killers (killers), robbers (robbers)
Jackson moonwalkin' around this beat, R.I.P. Michael Jackson
I ain't ever paid no taxes, all I know about is ashin'
Bring the ho up out Samantha, I want her to f*ck with Tony
Still'll pull up in the Zone, I ain't squashin' shit with Quan'
What the f*ck do y'all be on? I swear I see too many cameras
Bitch, you know that shit was bammer, turned a model to a dancer
I ain't stoppin' 'til they hear, I pop off more than veneers
On the 6, you know it's serious, how you know? 'Cause bitch, I'm here
A lot a money, a lot of jewelry, we ain't trippin' on you, period
Yeah, I let my bitch count a half a ticket when she stressed out
Niggas know who run the city, pick your best five
How the f*ck you bust a Richard down with SIs?
How much a, yeah, one point VV?
Free dem boys, Dickie fits all on TV
Always yellin', "Free mine," never, "Free me," they need me
Tell her let me make her love me, I hate the nigga she f*ckin'
(Beat Gang)
Writer: Dion Hayes
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.