(Antt did the track)
(What they talkin’ ’bout out here?)
I’m really like that
They like, “Get in yo’ bag,” bitch, I been in mines
If Mel order four, I probably send him five
Kill ’em down, Cannon wit’ me, crippin’, tryna kill a five
Oh, you don’t bang shit, same shit still a-get you fried
Drop something then skate off, I still remember six to nine
Fuck dawg, he hatin’ on me, I still be in this bitch wit’ mine (DJ Drama)
Antt did the track (what they talkin’ ’bout out here?)
You niggas can’t fuck with us
They like, “Get in yo’ bag,” bitch, I been in mines
If Mel order four, I probably send him five
Kill ’em down, Cannon wit’ me, crippin’, tryna kill a five
Oh, you don’t bang shit, same shit still a-get you fried
Drop something then skate off, I still remember six to nine
Fuck dawg, he hatin’ on me, I still be in this bitch wit’ mine (Mr. Thanksgiving)
Did some time, like six years, how you feelin’?
I ain’t goin’ back, don’t get killed, that’s on my nigga
Everybody on finkles still gon’ put ’em on the payroll
I could fuck whoever bitch, my nigga, just don’t hate on me
I’m straight on you, niggas out here still doin” sucka shit
I done fucked his main ho, his sister and his brother bitch
Can’t trust a bitch, niggas out here starvin’, doggie send something
I still be sellin’, them people on me had to switch up
Been six summers, I’m still turnt
Fight who I kill first
Dog on ’em, don’t deal percs
Street Chanel, them real percs
Bae like “What we kickin’?” She pop it off by suckin’ dick
She pop it off by suckin’ dick, act bad like she can get it
I like freak hoes that eat hoes
That slap five when we done
I hate hoe niggas and broke niggas, won’t catch me with no bums
Got the white arms wit’ a clear lens, can’t catch me in my buffs
I done said this shit a hundred times, can’t beef about no sluts
Know I pulled up fresh as fuck
In that brand new Lambo truck, skrrt off on a dead body
Did a hit right in the foreign, it’s a big body
Ain’t know about it but now you know we did body
Yo’ bitch in my crib suckin’ my dick and she get real sloppy
Ain’t wanna tell you that shit dog, ’cause you be in yo’ feelings
You ain’t doin’ no killin’, you ain’t never pay no killers
Pussy that ain’t Wockhardt, you sippin’ on penicillin
I’ma stack this money up until I feel the ceiling
I ain’t want yo’ bitch, she looked at me like really, really
I’m in yo’ city with these buffs on like I ain’t from Philly
My life ain’t silly, I woke up and then made a milli
TLC mean too much lettuce cheese, my bitch look like chili
(Yeah) no, I’m never stuck, never stuck
Hold my pants up ’cause the .40 tucked
I ain’t never meet a bitch that didn’t fuck something
I ain’t never meet a bitch that didn’t suck something
Know these niggas pussy, they ain’t gon’ buss nothing
Nick Cannon walkin’ with a big ol’ drum
Countin’ all this money make me risk my thumbs
Smokin’ all these opps make me risk my lungs
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