Print

Uh It is kinda fun Nigga, you made a funky lil' beat with your bitch ass, woohoo Alright, here we go She said she was bottle, God Plus she looked like a model, God Champagne room, told 'em put it on my card I was off a couple of them bottles, I was goin' hard She movin' like we on the dance floor The DJ was playing that Camp Lo This is it, this is it, this is it, what? Throwin' luchini all on the big bud I'm in here with my shit tucked Only nigga with a baby nine in the strip club Maybe not, but I still don't give a fuck We in here deep, these niggas won't trip with us I said we just don't give a fuck My nigga in this bitch sippin' lean out a sippy cup You do what you want when the price right Money make these women feel safe like a night light Exactly how it should be Quit acting like you ain't never had no pussy You wanna fuck? Go home to your wife Nigga, don't fuck around and ruin my night The afterparty, that's a motherfucker Letras de cancionesBroad had body like a motherfucker Everybody in they zone If you ain't fucking or sucking dick, take your ass home Grown folk doin' grown shit Wilding out on some loced out Tone shit He was a Stone Crip, really from the hood But when he went pop, they got him misunderstood Look, seein' nine-five niggas hit the hoods with they chain tucked We gon' bring it back, donkey punches to these bitches' back Fuck that, I'm off that, might toot the whole thing Now pretty bitches got pistols in they tote bags Four-four mag'll make a fuckboy fall back Slidin' with the homies, tall cat in a paper bag Where you from? Where you used to sag? Where they know you at? Talk a lot of shit so I roam with one Daddy better chill before his mama loses a son I know a gang of niggas but I don't fuck with none 'Cause I'm a dog ass bitch, I be burying bones They been searching six months, still ain't found your bones Cancún and margaritas were the getaway I plead the Fifth, I don't know shit, man, I was on the getaway The boys in blue blurpin', put that shit away, shit away What gives a diamond more value than crack when both rocks? The difference between guns and butter when both stocks? How you put an end to the block when none of these roads stop? Or how it feel to be on your last paid call when the phone drop? Something fishy 'bout these niggas, they must be pescatarian The pound shh when it spit, so I named it librarian What type of bag would you like to be carried in You fuckin' with teak or the mahogany for your casket we buryin'? Lines between love and hate are apparently very thin But we cross over back and forth 'cause that's the game that we playin' in Pictures steal souls so be careful of whose camera you starin' in When you find your dreams, hold onto its scenes, so that you cherish it, nigga For you, I paint the bigger picture, but your vision tainted By how we make our own paper like we crocheting I'm not a gangster, just an intelligent street scholar Far from mundane with my slang, but a nigga still speak proper, preach knowledge Time is money and we eatin' it quick Although it's funny how we waste both when neither exist Send the kids back to school like the sleep didn't stick Then break the lock off they door as if my key didn't fit Listen, baby, I'm just reading the script, I'm tryna leave with a bitch Squeezing her hips after leaving my tip I hope these niggas don't creep on the kid on the way to the whip Or I'm leaving fifty percent of the clip From Letras Mania