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Oh, you rocking with that? Yeah Might just hop on the beat like, "Yeah" I don't even remember how I hop in Travis, you killed it Pull up with the .40, hit 'em, yeah Ice gon' get 'em, gon' chill 'em, yeah Niggas mad that I won't get 'em Niggas need to be happy I don't kill 'em Ooh, and the car, full throttle Baby, rub me like I'm a genie in bottle Yeah, hop out back, .40 follow Huh, hop out back and then the .40 follow me Huh, me? I'm gon' pop my collar, then Told that bitch I won't see but until tomorrow then I'm gon' nut on her and she gon' swallow kid Baby, give me head, yeah, please acknowledge me Chopper tighten off, it go out back, yeah Make you wanna bang, you don't even bang, yeah Snub-nose, close range Uh, told that boy to get like parachutes and hang there Huh, boy, you better hang there Hang tight Hmm, chopper hit, aim right Letras de cancionesSaid, the copper hit 'em, ain't light (Ooh, nope) Everything I do they bite Like a Mike and Ike Knock 'em out, Mike Tyson Knock 'em Pull up with the .40, hit 'em, yeah Ice gon' get 'em, gon' chill 'em, yeah Niggas mad that I won't get 'em Niggas need to be happy I don't kill 'em Ooh, and the car, full throttle Baby, rub me like I'm a genie in bottle Yeah, hop out back, .40 follow Huh, hop out back and then the .40 follow me New Rollie with the big rocks Got a new seat with the big shots Know i keep the top down on the drop-top Know I gotta keep a Glock with a red dot Young hot nigga, always on that bullshit Two chains on, got some buffs and a new fit Bitch, every time you see me it's a new whip Try to play he get left on the news clip Bitch, you better snap back to reality I'm balling like a athlete That's why you niggas mad at me His mom seen his dead body, that's a tragedy With all this money, I provide for all my family New bitch, switch cars on a new day Don't beef, lil' bitch, 'cause I'm too paid Swerving in the big body, it take two lanes Got a bad ass bitch with some mood swings I ain't worried 'bout nothing, I'ma boss up I'm really out here fucking niggas mamas If you play with the squad we gon' pop you I'm a savage, grew my dreads like a Rasta Like I said, play with me, bitch, it's cut-throat He get smoked, he tried to up, his homie got toast Your bitch a flirt, she gon' do the most Ay, you can catch me sliding in that black Ghost Pull up with the .40, hit 'em, yeah Ice gon' get 'em, gon' chill 'em, yeah Niggas mad that I won't get 'em Niggas need to be happy I don't kill 'em Ooh, and the car, full throttle Baby, rub me like I'm a genie in bottle Yeah, hop out back, .40 follow Huh, hop out back and then the .40 follow me From Letras Mania