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That pint don't come sealed, nigga, I don't want it I trap out the bando, nigga, like it's haunted HoodWolf, leave me with the junkies in the dungeon I still serve a nigga a bale of the onion Better go ask your bitch, I been getting money Real Candler Road nigga, real Candler Road nigga I'm dressing like I was Zoboomafoo Got lions and snakes on my Gucci shoes Poured up a deuce, I rolled up a blunt or two Your bitch wanna fuck when she come through Sensei busting up bricks, I do kung-fu Good aim when shooting, I'm hunting you Caught a cold from my ice, ah-choo All black Ghost pull up, peek-a-boo I'm smoking that platinum cookies, that's the best I got the juice, I pour up that Hitech Four pockets full, looking like thigh pads Talking that gangsta shit, no, you ain't 'bout that Hoodrich I keep the strap in my Louie bag Fuck on your bitch, give her back, I'm through with that Filthy rich like the sewer, don't hang with no rats Designer my fashion, I'm still sipping Act I got them cookies, they fresh out the oven Juuging and packing, I'm making shit double Letras de cancionesFour in the 20, I like my shit muddy Fuck on that hoe, then I call up her buddy Rich nigga status, I keep the strap on me My red bottoms made from the hair of a pony My young niggas murking, they scared to be opponents Talking that fuck shit, we pulling right up on it That pint don't come sealed, nigga, I don't want it I trap out the bando, nigga, like it's haunted HoodWolf, leave me with the junkies in the dungeon I still serve a nigga a bale of the onion Better go ask your bitch, I've been getting money Real Candler Road nigga, you the [?] I gotta meet the plug way out in Conyers I got the paper like folder dividers Buy the work, no cosigners Real street nigga, I ain't taking no dummies Can't get it the way we trying, nigga, you'll die I can seen a nigga acting like me, stop lying I'm Pablo the Plug, you ain't sold a dime I'm in the concrete jungle with the lions I need the pints, nigga, I don't buy lines When I get bricks, yeah, I'm paying for mine 360 ring, why the fuck would I sign? I'm dressing like I was Zoboomafoo Got lions and snakes on my Gucci shoes Poured up a deuce, I rolled up a blunt or two Your bitch wanna fuck when she come through Sensei busting up bricks, I do kung-fu Good aim when shooting, I'm hunting you Caught a cold from my ice, ah-choo All black golds pull up, peek-a-boo I'm smoking that platinum cookies, that's the best I got the juice, I pour up that Hitech Four pockets full, looking like thigh pads Talking that gangsta shit, no, you ain't 'bout that Hoodrich I keep the strap in my Louie bag Fuck on your bitch, give her back, I'm through with that Filthy rich like the sewer, don't hang with no rats Designer my fashion, I'm still sipping Act I'm in New York, smoking Cali, sipping on Texas African diamonds, I flooded my necklace Popped me a Perc and a Xan, I'm reckless Nigga, don't ask for no bricks through no message I got the OG, they call me a veteran Beenie Man, dressing like David Letterman Tools, I'm a contractor like Mexicans Oooh, quit all that capping and flexing Bitch, I'm in the trap, quit testing I'm bench pressing weights like professional wrestling Spent fifty thousand on a chopper, investment Hundred thousand went in price of the check-in Bales in, I'ma drive them on Gresham Twenty thousand, I just dropped on my bezel They call me Pablo, they know I was special Just look at my neck, I just won a gold medal On my fifth foreign, I'm geeking [?] I fuck with the white, they say it's the devil Never had shit, now I'm rich, I call that incredible Cookies, weed, I ain't talking about edible Fuck on that hoe, go get money what you better do I've been the plug, $200,000 ahead of you Xans and the lean, I stay on the medical Every day I wake up, I go get me some revenue I'm dressing like I was Zoboomafoo Got lions and snakes on my Gucci shoes Poured up a deuce, I rolled up a blunt or two Your bitch wanna fuck when she come through Sensei busting up bricks, I do kung-fu Good aim when shooting, I'm hunting you Caught a cold from my ice, ah-choo All black golds pull up, peek-a-boo I'm smoking that platinum cookies, that's the best I got the juice, I pour up that Hitech Four pockets full, looking like thigh pads Talking that gangsta shit, no, you ain't 'bout that Hoodrich I keep the strap in my Louie bag Fuck on your bitch, give her back, I'm through with that Filthy rich like the sewer, don't hang with no rats Designer my fashion, I'm still sipping Act From Letras Mania