Yahh
Aye, aye
What
Yuh
(On my Kodak sh*t, I don't even know what a pad is these days)
Aye, aye, aye
Yuh (where my money at hoe?)
Yah, aye, yuh, aye
Verse 1:
Always ridin' wit a piece (aye)
Prolly ridin' 3 streets (aye)
pus*y n*ggas love talkin' till I pull up on em, let the choppa speak (aye)
All my n*ggas love beef (aye)
All my b*tches love me (aye)
Yo b*tch say she wanna f*ck, but I had to duck, cause she ugly (aye)
Now I got big bands (aye)
Don't shake my f*ckin' hand (aye)
Ion f*ck wit no b*tch n*ggas, I only f*ck wit my clan (uh)
[?] my bands, throw him in a van, that was yo mans (aye)
Yo b*tch hit me for the Xans, now she chillin' with me takin' off her pants (huh) damn (huh)
Keep a piece on my hip, wit a full clip if you want war
In the streets of my whip, ridin' real swift while you ride Fords
See my n*gga get hit so you think I give a sh*t or f*ck about yours?
Yo b*tch suck on my di*k like it's on the list of all of her chores
Send a n*gga to the morgue (aye)
Yo b*tch hit me when she bored (aye)
Run the game, f*ck a score (aye)
f*ckin' up the chess boards (aye)
Runnin' up them damn digits while you play with fidgets, pockets on midget (aye)
n*gga you ain't really wit it, if you wanna try me, come and get some more (aye)
Clinching on the Smith & Wesson when I hear somebody knocking on the door (aye)
Think it's funny how the only reason why these n*ggas hatin' cause they bored (b*tch)
Flexed up, b*tch I'm next up, run the check up till I'm breathless
Hold them tecs up, so don't step up, if you wet up cause I'm reckless b*tch