Gheto Philosophy lyrics

[Intro]
(Ooh, Sav killed it)
Four hours to Southfield, n*gga, it's what I'm sayin'
Ghetto Boyz sh*t and I'ma keep sayin' it
Alright

[Verse]
The worst thing a b*tch could say to me is she pregnant
The last n*gga we had beef with, we beheaded him
The other side tellin' on us, I'm scared of them
I'm high as hell drinkin' red, man, I know the Method Man
The way I ran the money up, I got seven legs
Hit a rasta n*gga in his head, he got seven dreads
n*ggas ain't stop me from sh*t, the tether did
I'm finna write a book, then put sh*t talkin; in the letterhead
Three thousand for this Louis V letterman
55 thousand for the watch, it's a skeleton
Like I ain't sick at all, but I keep takin' medicine
Stop talking 'bout what you did before, it's irrelevant
When I need a peace of mind, I hit the studio
I'm finna sh*t on y'all, I'ma need an extra booty hole
Three Percs, beat a b*tch down 'til her coochie swole
Shoppin' in the Louis Vuitton store with all Gucci on
Next day I'm walkin' through Dior with Louis on
b*tch, I'm a trendsetter
Pour some water on the Qualitest, I'm a thin stretcher
I got the weight of the world over me, I'm a bench presser
b*tch, your baby daddy not a plug, he a temp tester
I ain't gon' lie, sh*t, I used to work at Chrysler
My b*tch was there when I was f*cked up, it's only right I ice her
They thought I was hard when I dropped Testers, but I'm kind of nicer
Yeah I got some dogsh*t put up, but I'm kind of shiesty
Every b*tch I f*cked said she never met nobody like me
I got a Glock 9 on my hip, why you tryna fight me?
b*tch, suck the di*k like you grown, stop tryna bite me
I don't make love, I f*ck hoes hard, why you tryna ride me?
Opps bought all them damn guns, I thought they was slidin'
Come to find out them n*ggas dead, I thought they was hidin'
Told y'all I'ma take this sh*t over, y'all thought I was lyin'
A four of red and thirty Percocets, I thought I was flyin'
I'm so high, I'ma need a f*ckin' parachute
My shooter bummy, he'll kill you for a pair of shoes
Four O's of Wock' by myself, I drunk a pair of twos
I'm gettin' money, I could f*ck any b*tch I want
Nowadays, it's eighteen hundred for every six I pour
I don't get high, but I just bought another f*ckin' zip to smoke
This drunk b*tch threw up, then asked me, "Where the liquor go?"
Lift her leg up and penetrate her, now she pigeon-toed
Made this knot in sixty seconds, this a minute roll
Twenty-eight hundred all dubs, that's a trickin' roll
Gettin' money, doin' anything, I might dip my gold
The first time I caught a homicide was at the liquor store
Had to pay a thousand dollars just to buy the footie
Ain't sh*t sweet, but I be in L.A tryna buy a cookie
Any b*tch'll let me f*ck for free, I ain't buyin' pus*y