[Intro] Ain't that DJ Chose over there? I lost some old friends I had to tell, "No" (Look like DJ Chose) The streets they washed up most of these niggas hoes Can't see be goin' out sad, oh no, no, no Yeah
[Verse 1] When you ain't havin' nothin', watch how they treat you At my lowest all I had was God, don't ever think I need you Count up a hundred bands of dirty money, huh, huh (Out the mud, nigga) Showed you the move and you tried to work it on me, I'm like
[Chorus] I swear to God 'fore I got out, I wanna shoot (Yeah) Clap rods like it ain't nothin' else to do (Fah-fah) Keep a stick on me, better have it on you (Yеah) And if you got the drop, nigga, fuck it, come on through (Sheesh)
[Post-Chorus] Pull up Nigga, fuck it, come on through Know wе outside with it (Yeah, yeah) Nigga, fuck it, come on through
[Verse 2] We don't give no fucks, play you out of luck, uh I keep it on my side like my .40 was a crutch I workin' with a pair, but bitch, I ain't the one Might pop one in your head talking 'bout a one on one, huh Never catch me slippin', got it tucked right by my belly Ask around the city since a lil' one I been steppin' I stay out people business 'cause that shit be gettin' messy 'Cause soon I flash out, you gotta check it or respect it I pray to God that my dawg come home I keep it gun just to make it home I hope my mom know I love her soul But you raised a child with a troubled soul
[Chorus] I swear to God 'fore I got out, I wanna shoot (Yeah) Clap rods like it ain't nothin' else to do (Fah-fah) Keep a stick on me, better have it on you (Yeah) And if you got the drop, nigga, fuck it, come on through (Sheesh)
[Post-Chorus] Pull up Nigga, fuck it, come on through Know we outside with it (Yeah, yeah) Nigga, fuck it, come on through
[Outro] I pray to God that my dawg come home I keep a gun just to mkae it home I hope my mom know I love her soul But you raised a child with a troubled soulTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
