Mother f*cker (Vol. 1) lyrics

[Verse]
I'm takin’ my chances by makin' cheese on the cut
You know to see mothaf*cka
Peep b*tch, you know what's up
I guess that life ain’t really nothin' but a gamble
So don't get yourself in somethin' that yo ass can't handle
'Cause I'ma make a livin' with my millimeter Glock
And you need to watch your back
When you comin’ to my block
So I’ma leave it at that, while my pockets gettin' fat
Kick back like a mack, and drink a yac, and smoke a sack

Now, I’m blowin', my n*gga, hellified f*ckin' shotgun
Off this mack blunt, now yo ass is gonna get stung
By this mothaf*ckin' pimpin’, I'm not slippin' for this trick
b*tch, better get to them knees, and suck this f*ckin' di*k
Drinkin' the mothaf*ckin' yac, and you know I'm laid back
Smokin' up an ounce of bud
And my n*gga kinda just laid back
Back to the liquor store for another f*ckin' yac
Blazin' bud all night, and I'm smokin' on the f*ckin' sack

Smoked outta my n*ggas room, It's the full contact
Burn the bud, then my n*gga that smoke
Now check him for anothеr sack
I pop 'em for the 10, half pop for the 20
Rollin' by thе Chevy quickly, until the chronic kill me
It's 2 o'clock, I'm sippin' the yack
Now my ass is laid back
Chiefin' on the fattest mack
Havin' a major ink attack
Got 15 dollars in my pocket
That's just sh*t to campaign off
Smoke it here, spend it there
Now, you know the sh*t is gone
The n*gga left the liquor store
With a half of pint of yac
Now, I'm finna hit my n*gga down for another sack
Smokin' on the junt, with my n*ggas drinkin' O.E
Standin' on the track, kickin' back with the family
Constantly blowin' blunts
'Cause us playas all about the game
Kickin', I'm pimpin' and sweatin' these b*tches
n*gga, it's the Criminal Manne
22 deep, where we creep, but we still chill
When it's time to scoop my b*tch
We chief a pound and vamp to the crib
Ink attack, drink a yack, kick back like a mack
Take the time, let's get f*cked up, my n*gga
And smoke a sack

I'm takin' my chances by makin' cheese on the cut
You know to see mothaf*cka
Peep b*tch, you know what's up
I guess that life ain't really nothin' but a gamble
So don't get yourself in somethin' that yo ass can't handle
'Cause I'ma make a livin' with my millimeter Glock
And you need to watch your back
When you comin' to my block
So I'ma leave it at that, while my pockets gettin' fat
Kick back like a mack, and drink a yac, and smoke a sack

Now, I'm blowin', my n*gga, hellified f*ckin' shotgun
Off this mack blunt, now yo ass is gonna get stung
By this mothaf*ckin' pimpin', I'm not slippin' for this trick
b*tch, better get to them knees, and suck this f*ckin' di*k
Drinkin' the mothaf*ckin' yac, and you know I'm laid back
Smokin' up an ounce of bud
And my n*gga kinda just laid back
Back to the liquor store for another f*ckin' yac
Blazin' bud all night, and I'm smokin' on the f*ckin' sack