1000 Lbs lyrics

[Verse 1: Labba]
Uhh – who test these fat n*ggas?
I beat ya b*tch with a bat, n*gga
f*ck ya'll, the AK to ya liver
Motherf*cker sayin' they gon' pray
And they pray for my downfall
Rob a rapper for his Audemar
He f*ckin' ran like the Autobahn
pus*y n*gga, this is Crookton
You just muthaf*ckin' know – if you come touch mine
See the coroner line
The lastest to f*cking pound pavements
Phantom engraved, need the hoody for the AC
Laser cut key sh*t
These are the evils, the liquid diesel – call it Pimp C'page
UGK forever, tougher than leather
Nobody does it better, I'm sonnin' 'em
They against me like abortion
f*ck ya'll haters, f*ck those rockin' gators

[Verse 2: Action Bronson]
Good coke, cut cold cuts
There she blows, the bottom of my whole nuts
Now every table set and laced up with the gold crust
Stuff some drugs in the middle of the ho's butt
'Cause we wildin' off the boat – Albanians cannibals Queens County
Stick you for your rings, only sing for a king's bounty
'Cause if you wanted to cop it, I feed them brownies
Oakleys be the optics, eat tapas and drink Cab'by
Baby veal neck stew, wildin' like Winona Ryder
Face in magazines, divas dug Al down at the sl*t house
Enter her butt mouth breakin' an bust down
Open my eyes, inhale, and blow the drugs out
80's Bush smoke, blue Mercedes kush
Ass fat, waist small like an Asian foot
Kick sh*t Miroslav Klose, I drink p*ss of the purified cobra
[Verse 3: Ike Eyes]
Stock in the block skyrocketed through the roof
Core of the Rotten Apple eating at the roots
Solo acts and duos, I eat up your whole group
Backpack trapper, duece fever in the boot
My ol' head taught me all the tricks to the drug trade
Don't make the same mistakes that love made
Your best friend's a dollar in your pockets
And ya stash ain't right if you can fit it in your wallet
Hank Moody of rappin', fat b*tch stank booty clappin'
Back to the live action
Break night, take flight, pipe smokers, rail rippers
Hungry hounds on the trail, tail sniffers
It was all love 'til the drugs blurred my thinking
Lap full of work in the backseat of a Lincoln
Waitin' at the coast for the loads to wash ashore
This ain't enough, I'm gonna need more 1,000 pounds

[Outro: scratches by PF Cuttin']