MANSION MUSIK lyrics

[Intro]
(I'm shy, oh my God)
Yeah, yeah

[Verse]
n*ggas wanna be my kin, pus*y, you not my folks, uh
Ridin' 'round town in a Benz, put that b*tch on spokes
Spent eight mil' on a crib, bought that b*tch with a moat
b*tch, I just got rich, let's have a goddamn toast
Step on a n*gga in Ricks, got on a cranberry coat
Yeah, it's just me and my ho, snake eyes, b*tch, like a G.I. Joe
Baby, sit back, just smoke my dope, go get your brother, I heard that he croak
Put that on your mother, I know y'all hoes, still gotta stick to the code
Boy, I get in that mode, don't play with me, boy, this sh*t ain't for show
Eighty-eight keys, no piano, gotta get it how you live, that's my MO
Yeah, she want the whole thing, not the demo
Pull in through a tunnel in my Maybach limo
Yeah, she want double trouble, that's akimbo
Whip her head back and forth, not no Willow
Get that n*gga out that horse, feel like Django
Sendin' shots everywhere, I feel like Rambo
Call of Duty, b*tch, pull up with commandos
I might buy a yacht, feel like Jack Sparrow
Posted in the field like a damn scarecrow
And my brother sellin' white like some ashy elbows
Shawty, what's your name? Put you in Chanel, ho
I ain't even at the beach, but I could send some shells, ho
Gotta get the all-black Ricks, shell toes
Keep all of that gangster sh*t up off the cell phone
My brother in the hole, we can't talk off the jail phone
With my brothers in the streets, man, I feel like Elmo
Sending all the shots and I got all the ammo
Got this sh*t lit like a damn candle
Pop a n*gga's top like a damn canned good
Chrome Heart shades look like some Ray-Bans, yeah
Red car, red bag, feel like Santa
Red bandana, here to f*ck your plans up
What's up in your head? You want some smoke, some cancer?
pus*y, get your bands up, codeine in the Fanta
Put them poles on you n*ggas, turn you into dancers
Yeah, AK-47 with a damn banana, uh
Turn a pus*y block into a damn bonanza
I got white like Hannah, proud of me like tana
They got pigs at they crib like they in Alabama
Sippin' 1942 mixed with Tropicana
Pour a four, skadoosh, Kung Fu Panda
With the gangsters and the robbers chilling in Atlanta
Feds hit the trap, throw the codeine in the blammer
I'm on Magnolia, cops puttin' me in handcuffs
[Outro]
800 gang
1400 (Bah)
Big 14 (Bah), know what the f*ck going on (Bah)
Gang (Bah), gang
(I'm shy, oh my God)