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808 Mafia YK I got cheese, dope, and a fuckin' bad bitch (Woo) I got pills, weed, and a Draco with some clips (Woo) I'ma empty every round, then I'm reloadin' the clip Caught your gal out here thottin', fuck on that lil' bitch Memphis niggas, country niggas, and we want all the smoke (Uh-huh) Fuck with Hector and Gomez, man, we sell all the dope (Uh-huh) Call my lawyer, Eric Morgan, if I do get caught (Eugh) The best lawyer in the world, he gon' get the charges dropped I got dogs, they not strays Gold teeth, I got braids Money trains niggas on they hustle, we try'na get paid (Ching king) Pistol grip, .40 on the hip Shootin' out the muzzle (Bang) Throw your gang sign in the air if you know 'bout the struggle Money blue, like puzzle Pull that scrap, like, uh-oh I'ma shoot, like fasho Try me, uh, no-no All my niggas on go-go Fuck 12, fuck popo One in the dome, from Draco Head in pieces, like puzzle (Eugh, ugh) Letras de canciones I got cheese, hoes, and a bunch of fuckin' dope I got P's, coke, and some killers at the door Hydro weed smoke, and a quarter-ounce of blow What you need, bro, is to fuck with your boy Ayy Slidin' down 240, then got off on Earl Ways (Trap) Headin' to the hood where whole things for sale, man (Trap) You wanna P or a muthafuckin' bill, man (Trap) When you pass the corner store, just make a left, man (Trap) I'm on Boar Street (Trap) 80 P's a week (Trap) Niggas runnin' in and out, that's how you know it's me (Trap) Burglar bars on every window on the house (Like who that right there) Ain't nothing in here but a scale and a couch (Yeah, yeah) Narcotics ridin' down the street, oh shit (God damn) I grabbed the money, went and threw it over the fence (Go next door) Too much money, this shit got me paranoid (Yeah, yeah) These niggas dummies, man, don't make me send them boys Yeah South Memphis youngin', you know how I'm comin' I been gettin' money, turn nothin' into somethin' (Yeah) Phone line jumpin' (Brrt), they booking' me constantly (Okay) 'Cause this young nigga hotter than a fuckin' oven (Hot, hot, hot) Chillin' with your auntie (Ayy), smokin' on some onion (Yah) Her ass fat like an onion (Yah), head bomb atomic (Whoa) Ridin' 'round town in a brand new foreign (Shit) Then I got bored, put some Forgiattos on it (Yeah) I be Gucci'd down, but I'm still wearing' Jordans (Yeah) I be iced out, bitch, my neck cost a fortune (Uh) I been ballin' out, I just came back from tourin' (Yeah) And linked up with Pat, 'cause he said he got some more I got cheese, hoes, and a bunch of fuckin' dope I got P's, coke, and some killers at the door Hydro weed smoke, and a quarter-ounce of blow What you need, bro, is to fuck with your boy From Letras Mania