May 8th lyrics

(I'm Kured!)

Just the pants and a shirt, damn near cost a nickel
Been broke all your life, you ain't gon' ever solve the riddle
She throw the neck for everybody, she the artificial
These n*ggas never drop sh*t like they argumentive

Pull up to the scene, they like "there go Marc' b*tch."
If getting money is a must, then I can't smell your armpit
Same b*tch you hatin' on me to gon' f*ck me off rip
Used to wear my dawg sh*t, now I'm up dog sh*t

Can't leave the game, b*tch, I'm knee-deep
Never needed hoes, b*tches need me
Just took a trip to Arizona, not the sweet tea
Stop tryna do fraud, but it's hard when everything free

Just f*cked the sh*t out your thot, to a deep sleep
n*gga don't get beat by the chop, like Chief Keef
Swan, that's my brother, you see him then you gon' see me
SWV, I'm the reason your b*tch knees weak

You might catch me daydreaming, cause I stay scheming
n*gga you a fake demon, your b*tch late creepin'
When you call, she fake sleepin' while she taste semen
Countin' money I keep prayin', have to thank Jesus
When we slide on a n*gga, b*tch that drac' sangin'(singing)
Loaded 40 on me, loadin' up some bank pieces
n*gga check the scoreboard, cause we ain't even, at all

Why you ain't believe in your dawg?
I had visions seein' us ball
Baby, why ain't you believe in your n*gga?
What you ain't see in your n*gga?
That you thought you see in those n*ggas?

Weighin' up some money I thought I'd never have
Chip on my shoulder, reason why I'm in my bag
Now I'm on posters, I got friends I never had
My b*tch get spoiled cause she really never ask
A hunnid choppers strike me wrong and that's your ass
If it's a problem pull up suited like the mask
Hopped out my feelings then I hopped right in my bag
Got out my feelings like my teeth was hurtin' bad

Ay
Twenty thousand, fifty bands, b*tch, a hunnid ball!
Last man standing, we want every one of y'all
Give a f*ck about a sl*t at all
I know b*tches ain't down for me, so I'mma punt the ball

When I needed love, you ain't look out
Lost up on her, fell in love with some good mouth
Look how times change, fresh as f*ck at the cookout
Damn near got a thirty-ball, like a three point shootout
b*tch i'm wavier, then my braids get took down
Your b*tch runnin' wild, put your foot down
Hammer with the ladder, like I'm working on a new house
Ridin' with the ladder, like a fire gettin' put out

Know a couple people feel I turned my back on 'em
I just had to get right, I was comin' back for 'em
'Bout twenty racks on 'em, all kinds of straps on 'em
45, 47, felt like Mike Epps on 'em

pus*y so good, I cut her off and got back focused
Come and get your b*tch on fire, stiff-armed neck
So she a ten, I'mma hire her
Like I threw out a jack, just bought extensions for my b*tch, I ride with her on my lap

Pull up to the bank, like "gimmie ten," this for play-play
Bank teller a fan, he just called me by my stage name
How you think I'm doing bank plays?
'Bout to slide down, Opp keep di*k-suckin' my fake page

Get a little money, everybody swear they ain't fake
Same ones left a n*gga hangin', like the K.K
But that's how sh*t go, took a plane cause I'm blessed
Man, these hoes so foul, I should complain to the ref

Your main b*tch foul, she love the gang and she said "y'all petty."
My n*gga going slide for the love like R. Kelly
Yeah, you stabbed me in my back but those scars helped me
Why you ain't believe in your dawg?
I had vision seein' us ball
Baby, why ain't you believe in your n*gga?
What you ain't see in your n*gga?
That you thought you see in those n*ggas?