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Snax on the beat Raw (Aye Sosa) Raw (ISO) (I've seen your girl man, that shit raw as hell man) Raw (Got 5 iPhones?) Raw, raw (That shit raw) Raw, raw, raw (You got 3 guns, again? Which one you good at?) (Oh yeah, that shit raw) I got a bad bitch, she raw I got a Mac-10, he raw Walk in the mall like coach (?) and we ball It’s me and Ben Franklin, my bitch think we tall Huh, huh, huh, huuuuh, huh, huuuuh, huh Remember I was off a 4 and my fans seen me fall They like he ain't give a fuck cause he raw, and nah These niggas ain't raw, nah Just got a BMW M6 and he raw Don't make me use the stick shift and leave y'all Bitch in the whip, she like "how you ain't let down the window" This shit raw, all y'all Letras de cancionesA bunch of coke, a bunch of boats This shit you got on is fake, it ain't right Like hot sauce on a hot dog 'Member eating ramen noodles Now I buy what I wanted to My bitch got a ass, she raw too (she raw) She mad cause she can't do what she want to (hell naw) Baby, cause you're raw You Lamborghini raw Girl, you Lamborghini raw My truck cost what a Lamborghini costs My truck cost what a Lamborghini costs I got some raw guns, give a nigga CPR Got some raw guns, give a nigga CPR See me feel me, kill the screen, we'll cut your TV off Kill the screen, we'll cut your TV off I remember running in houses Sosa, how big is your house? It's 6 thousand Square feet, 6 bedrooms and 10 different bathrooms So I shit where I want to And I know I'm raw because I do I want to I got a bad bitch, she raw I got a Mac-10, he raw Walk in the mall like coach (?) and we ball It’s me and Ben Franklin, my bitch think we tall Huh, huh, huh, huuuuh, huh, huuuuh, huh Remember I was off a 4 and my fans seen me fall They like he ain't give a fuck cause he raw, and nah These niggas ain't raw, nah Raw, raw, raw, raw, raw Nigga, you don't wanna buy you whatever you want, want, want, want, want Sosa, your car is raw, raw, raw, raw, raw When I pull off and that bitch is like rah, rah, rah, rah, rah Only thing gone kill me is a puff, a puff, a puff, a puff, a puff You ain't smoking on Cali, boy, it ain't no loud, bitch, shut the fuck up Take a look around my house it's Glocks, and blunts, and Glocks, and blunts, and blunts Tryna come up in here, we gon' paint your ass on a Capri Sun Boy, you cross Almighty Sosa you done Do this Mac-10 go with my Balenciagas or the 9 with the ones? And I got so many thots, fuck my baby mama Cause she crazy She on that Aaliyah shit she love me then hate me But I still do it for my baby Child support shit, it don't faze me Cause I get cakey I go a lot of placeys I got accountants and agents Give my niggas raw guns, bitch, they spraying I got a bad bitch, she raw I got a Mac-10, he raw Walk in the mall like coach (?) and we ball It’s me and Ben Franklin, my bitch think we tall Huh, huh, huh, huuuuh, huh, huuuuh, huh Remember I was off a 4 and my fans seen me fall They like he ain't give a fuck cause he raw, and nah These niggas ain't raw, nah From Letras Mania