Town & Country lyrics

[Intro]:
Reuel, stop playing with these n*ggas
Uh, drank god
Shhh
Gang sh*t, n*gga
Check the scoreboard

[Verse 1: Icewear Vezzo]
Yeah, forties, nines, macs, and the Ks
Sixty-thousand strong for this Rollie, act yo' age
Cuddy banged my line for them oranges, that's my lane
I don't trust a soul, b*tch, I got stick when I'm on stage
Million dollars cash, got me actin' like I'm Blade
We kill hoes too, tell that b*tch get out my face
Yeah, I want that drop. Ain't got no seal? Then I'm gucci
Purple demon sipper, spillin' drank all on my Nudies
Pop out with a thirty in that Glock, he a Big Uzi
762s up in that Drac', he call it Lucci
Double cup of lean, b*tch, I be sippin' like I'm Tunechi
I'm a Ghetto Boy, so I spent fifty for the coochie
Plus I'm crippin' like I'm Tookie
I hang with the robbers, gang members, and the shooters
We gone load them clips, spin his block and make a movie
All white sticks, they white as crack, I call em "Pookie" (Iced Up Records)
Twenty-thousand dollars for lil' bro to grab that Trishy
I just robbed the plug, sh*t, I be makin' bad decisions
Every time I go to buy my drugs, b*tch, I got blicky
If she ain't tryin' to f*ck, then she won't make it past my kitchen
Spent three-hundred thousand for my jewelry up at Hutchie
Choppa on my side, this sh*t look like I got on crutches
I be on the 6, run through that b*tch just like I'm Stuckey
If it wasn't for probation, tell my opps "You n*ggas lucky"
Yeah, got a b*tch and she a stuffer
Made four-hundred thousand off that ice down in Kentucky
Fifties in the bezel of that Patek, this b*tch bustin'
Half a brick of puppy, sold it in a Town & Country, n*gga
[Intro]:
We gon' call this b*tch "Town & Country", man
We in a Town & Country, n*gga
You know that's what we work in
We got a stash in that b*tch too
Almost hit a b*tch for a few
Stupid ass police wasn't lookin' right
But that's another story though
Gang sh*t
6 Prince
Big ice, big landlord