Print

Just got off the phone, was kickin' it with a day one Set a fifty thousand play for him, I ain't make nothin', and I don't want to They been askin' us for the weed, they don't want juice Tell a bitch, "Come through" 'cause we got Runtz too (Yeah) Heard the Wham in, lookin' for the white? We got grams in And this bitch take ten, I ain't tryna kick it with no fake friends I ain't even tryna make friends Youngin kill for free, what you think he'd do for eight bands? Switch on me, I ain't stoppin', this a chase then Speed up, re-up, ain't even 5 yet, I done poured three cups Lil' nigga, pipe down, you ain't write when I was gone, don't write now (No) When you on the road, bring that price down Still'll get 'em sold for the eight, thirty hoes with me doin' shows in the H Hit my phone with the drank, not a pint, bitch, a case Free my nigga Dunk doin' life for the game Got a chain for you and I got some change for you Freed up, nah, I'm still the same, brother Ever caught him in the club, know we rained on him Fuck niggas, niggas can't fuck with me Cuban on buck fifty, AP two hun' I'm puttin' a quarter on a nigga if I lose somethin' Hunt 'em when them shooters come, two where we left him Trap on the way, then Merey next Free BH, HGH, OxyContins, we in three states Roxies, sebastians, we got IDs Letras de cancionesWholesale, twenty pages, thirty-five Gs If you ain't got it out the mud, you ain't like me If you ain't still bustin' juggs, you ain't like me Fifty strong in the hood, nigga, ten chops Let a nigga play with us, well, you better not Trap phone jumpin', Backwood musty Yeah, I'm still dissin', you don't like it, nigga, fuck you You ain't write me, nigga, fuck you Got indicted, still thuggin' Ain't nothin' for a bitch, everything for my brother Had some problems with my uncle, fell back for my momma I'll give it to you easy, but you ain't takin' nothin' from me Put the hood on my back, we against all odds Bitch poured a big four, might as well drop five Never gon' block that, hold it down, I'm trappin' I ain't got no beef for cookin' shit, simmer it down Niggas wanna fuck with us 'cause we done figured it out I hope Audi get bigger than me Can't be fucked with, bigger than Meech I ain't poppin' on the trappin' shit, I'm killin' the streets If we ever grow apart, just know it's all love Ain't no run outs in the garage, nigga, this all us Brabus, lace the V1s Hit a line if you need one Lambs and shit Still runnin' through them grams and s— From Letras Mania