Split the Bill lyrics

[Intro: Boldy James]
It's Action Jackson, pus*y n*gga, you ain't 'bout nothin'
227, we the Mafia, where we at?
I ain't spin back or do sh*t when his mans got chipped

[Verse 1: Boldy James]
Dirt diver, quick to pull a stain on a bumbaclot
Hundred-shot chopper fully bang for the juggernauts (Send this b*tch up)
Come and shop with us, we got whatever n*ggas looking for (Come get it)
Hundred eighty racks I made from scratch just like some cookie dough (Chocky)
I ain't really into all the gossip, n*ggas chatty patties (I'm ain't)
While I'm in the spig, gift-wrappin' up them Krabby Patties (Whipping)
Patent leather Off-Whites with the infrared arrow
Off-white bricks, all my licks look like Will Ferrell (Yеah)
Soul-snatchin', dirty pole with the laser (Brrt)
It's Bo Jackson, I ain't talkin' thirty-four for thе Raiders (Jack God)
Posted on the barrio, serving blow in the scraper
I scrape the bowl and beat the pot, turn a four to an eighter (Them extras)
Welcome to the murder show, from Third Coast to Granada (The world)
The front row full of b*tches, the third row full of haters (I'm in fourth row)
Double-mags on them switches, when we purge, it get fatal (Grrt)
'Ll put the mask on them n*ggas like we serving potatoes (Gang sh*t)

[Chorus: Boldy James]
I'm from Hellblock, where n*ggas get shot just for lookin' at me (Yeah)
Mean-muggin', ain't nobody smiling, but they trigger-happy
Gotta keep at least twelve rounds in your strigadil
Where if the opps don't down you, your own n*ggas will (You know it's on)
All of that front sh*t is punk sh*t, don't make me spin the drill (Yeah)
Load up my drumstick and show you how I really feel (How I'm really coming)
Hands-on with it, frontlinin', really in the field (Uh-huh)
Bro got a dime, I got a dime, now we can split the bill
[Verse 2: Boldy James]
Honey badger, ladder on me pokin' while I'm stuck in traffic (Yeah)
Standing on my stance, off the vert', bet I can dunk a basket (Jamming)
Allergic to metal, I keep bumpin' up with rashes (Uh-huh)
Blue steel on me, stuck to me, look like a f*ckin' magnet (Steel plate in my hip)
Reminiscing, made a play for five kilo
Cuddy chipping n*ggas, left 'em Flamin' Hot Cheetos (Grrt)
Habanero pepper boy, that's fuego (Hot boy)
Stair-steppin', turn the 504 into a Lego (One time)
Sliding Trackies and them straights, no Laredos (Skrrt)
Fair catch 'em, get 'em gone quick, hasta luego (Touch back)
He tried to tax me on the low, I had to rob him
That ice pack got me dozing while I'm nodding (Yeah)
Waking up the dead, it ain't no playin' possum (At all)
Big Creature, different 'tween a ghoul and a goblin (The Loch Ness)
It's 227 50 guap, we steady mobbing (Yeah)
If we ain't gang, I can't shoot you no fade, it ain't no squabbling

[Chorus: Boldy James]
I'm from Hellblock, where n*ggas get shot just for lookin' at me (6-4)
Mean-muggin', ain't nobody smiling, but they trigger-happy
Gotta keep at least twelve rounds in your strigadil (Ready to blow)
Where if the opps don't down you, your own n*ggas will (Your own rounds)
All of that front sh*t is punk sh*t, don't make me spin a drill (Yeah)
Load up my drumstick and show you how I really feel (How I'm really coming)
Hands-on with it, frontlinin', really in the field (I need some cleats)
Bro got a dime, I got a dime, now we can split the bill
[Outro: Boldy James]
In these streets
Yeah
Two-way, duecé, sieté
Big jefe
Boldy Blocks