Rasta Music lyrics

[Phone Conversation: T.Y. and B.G.]
B.G.: How the beat go?
T.Y.: It sound just like a lil Rasta beat, ya heard me like one of them **makes beat with his mouth** like one of those
B.G.: (?)
T.Y.: Yea ya heard me but that b*tch sound cool
B.G.: Yea, alright alright alright

[Verse 1: T.Y.]
b*tch I'm doing me
It ain't hard to see
My brother Roddy said he rep that 1 behind the 3
Dreads in my head got the people watching me
Fly clean back n*gga they plotting on me possibly
On a come up quick
Everything we ever spoke on man we done that sh*t
Love was high, before she even put the cone to her lip
f*ck that lacking all my n*ggas always stacking them chips
JLR getting rich
I'm a walking lick, say these hoes don't do that sh*t
My fingers thick, cause I forgot my grind a b*tch
Son of a Gangsta, I don't f*ck around with you n*ggas
Over that paper, I turn into a wig splitter

[Chorus: T.Y.](x2)
And b*tch I'm getting money, and I ain't never hating
Dreads in my head people thinking I'm Jamaican
Smoking on this herb got me looking like a Asian
Jets up over b*tches I ain't worrying bout you baby
[Verse 2: Young Roddy]
And I was posted with my partnas
Burning on that ganja
Got money in my closet hope the feds will never find it
Got a white b*tch from Milwaukee, she look just like Madonna
I swear shorty be wilin' she won't f*ck without no condom
Gimme brain she give me knowledge
Though she never been to college
Was hungry like a hostage now I'm shining like a diamond
See T.Y. that's my brother from another momma
And if he ever need me sh*t I might just catch a hommie
I know a chick named (?) ass so fat this chick can't hide it
I passed her to my brother time to see if this hoe bout it
They said I'm always quiet, that's cause I'm always plotting
Rest in peace to D Wee, b*tch free my n*gga P.G

[Chorus: T.Y.](x2)
And b*tch I'm getting money, and I ain't never hating
Dreads in my head people thinking I'm Jamaican
Smoking on this herb got me looking like a Asian
Jets up over b*tches I ain't worrying bout you baby