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These niggas got me fucked up See 'em in the street like what's up? Catch 'em down bad, get bust up None of my niggas no busters All of my niggas got bustdowns Run through the sack when I touch down Sold 'em and ain't even touched 'em My plug he just landed from Russia I go to the hole and I score the bucket Pretty lil bitch want to suck it Remember them days I had nothing I got all this shit off of hustling Headshot, my niggas ain't aiming at no leg shot Red dots, all you little pussy niggas gotta die Cook up, I cook up a pie Southside and shout out to Pie All of my bitches they bi Everywhere I got a fire I drop the top at the red light I get you shot if you say it twice Percocet, yeah that's a med night I want some head tonight You get a verse if your bread right I'm on a private flight I got a bitch, she a head doctor Can't say too much 'cause the feds watching Letras de canciones I'm just bench pressin' all these hoes Still rockin' designer clothes White bitch playin' with they nose Look at that bad bitch on that pole We show up and we sell out shows You know it's bros over hoes Chasin' that bread 'til I get it Hop in that 'Vette, I'ma hit it I'm on the way to the riches Mission to go get these millions Constantly dodgin' the sentence Hop out, I jump over fences I'm havin' more hoes than Hendrix I call up my boy, I pour up a four I told you it's bros over bitches You broke niggas never gon' listen I won an award, got suicide doors I'm knockin' the doors off the hinges I kill it, I don't want to end it Got water all over my arm I struggled all way to the morn' They dig it, they say I'm a charm That ting on me large We cashin', not swipin' these cards I'm thinkin' 'bout coppin' a Porsche And Gunna he gonna get more I'm just bench pressin' all these hoes Still rockin' designer clothes White bitch playin' with they nose Look at that bad bitch on that pole We show up and we sell out shows You know it's bros over hoes From Letras Mania