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Uh, hey You don't love me like you say you did These niggas who scream they don't lack just got caught without it If it's my time to go, make sure I die with some class These niggas love these hoes, stickin' trackers up they ass I see a bitch I had hangin' 'round the stu, I laugh You catch a ho with us, she bound to probably go out bad You probably hit these hoes, I know these hoes make niggas mad I can't go out my way, she'll find another, I can't bite the bait 14.5 for a crate, real Quagen seals, wouldn't do the fakes I ain't beefin' with no rapper, I got shit to do If you see me in this seven, go and do what you gon' do Out here fuckin' on this bitch like I ain't fucked a ho in years My closet big as hell, I got so rich, shit bring me tears I look at all my peers like if I got it, then you got it I look at both my parents like I'm grateful that y'all fucked My daughter said to me, "Daddy, I hate when you ain't up" I sleep all through the day, late night, the demons keep me up A bitch ain't worth a dollar, I drop racks to Oregon Duck her Nigga turn his back on me, by next Friday, he Chris Tucker Solid nigga, got more stripes than seersucker I'll shoot at my ex-mother, if she goin', I'ma fuck her Cross me, ain't no goin' back, stuck forever, I don't need you Act just like I got amnesia, never knew you, never seen you Black shades, black limousine Black gun, black magazine Letras de cancionesHavin' fun with it, I'm a king Die hard fiend for that lean, uh, uh I don't wanna be no big daddy I don't wanna make no bitch little brother happy I don't sell dreams, I ain't into workin' magic Known for gettin' weird bitches lit, I keep matches If you switch and you die, I'd be happy She don't wanna border like I told her, I'm not a papi Them hoes don't wanna like me, I wouldn't fuck 'em anyway I'm rich as hell, you think I care about your situation? I don't Bless Aye, aye, aye, aye I got money, I got bitches that'll kill for me I got high and said I miss her, she said, "Nigga, please" Rapper opp, I ain't gon' diss him, he could D-I-E He gon' sell out at a concert with B.I.G. G23 or plastic pistol, blue T-I-P Nigga leave with one of these, shots at the king Can't be fucked with, and I'm Glo Gang, Drench Game home team That my sneaky shit, she love me for the wrong thing That my sneaky shit, I never heard her phone ring I got divas, I got strippers, some both of these You can take it however you want, but this what it's 'posed to mean Forgiatos on the Track, we design our own thing Niggas think they got plot armor, but the show keep goin' I got knives all in my back, only feel it if you sober I got pape to blow for days, niggas in the way, aye, aye I got pape to blow for days, niggas in the way, aye, aye And I'm poured up by the ocean, these niggas sayin' I'm boastin' I did it by myself, a nigga wish he coulda wrote it Lotta cash, Tune, this shit way bigger than motion Sent that ho a broom, she a witch and she know it I bought another spaceship, still drive it like it's stolen I'm balancin' relationships, my bitch okay with the program Lotta cash, Tune, this shit way bigger than motion Leavin' what I read on the paper that I wrote it like Aye, aye, aye, aye, aye, aye Aye, aye, aye, aye, aye Aye, aye, aye, aye, aye From Letras Mania