I'm sittin at the table, countin' my money Ain't where I wanna be but I got a few hundreds A lot of talk on the streets like a nigga crossin' me Well, that's somethin' I gotta see
Is it how my chain swings? Tired of ma face Tellin' lies, getting niggas wives tied up and raped Similar to da mob, deeper than a rap All you niggas gettin' robbed, all the cell phones tapped
Bullet in my head, bullet in my chest Yeah, they want a nigga dead, they envy my success To be loved, to be loved, oh what a feelin' Hundred rounds in da drum
Niggas gettin whacked, no sympathy for the soft Niggas snitchin', I know bitches who clippin' your dick off I'ma boss champagne with the steak Pink rose jay sittin' ace by da case
Brisco line, 2 young niggas, what it do He gotta pretty shone and he wanna bring her through That's love, we go back to the blue house And if she bad enough, may take her to da new house
My Maserati be da new body Got your girl panties wetter than a pool party I got her sleepin' in the king size Last night I had tha bitch sittin' ring side
You wanna go that route, go there I been on this road before (Uh, huh) I know gunplay, you know gunplay (Yeah)
I'm shootin for the win but ready for the loss Both bags on the tip on my finger Yellin' bring it, I'm swingin' dat iron (Dat iron) When I'm swingin' dat iron (Dat iron)
My nigga so street, my swisha so sweet All this money on the table, how a nigga gon' sleep Speculations on my deal, it was over ten mil Blowin' herb, chauffer plus home in New Zeal through
Beat the case like Gotti, we the Trill Murder Inc I erased, slip and slide, they rainy in the mink Look dead in her eye, it's da end of the road In the purple Maybach means dat I'm getting' more dough
Smell the Christian Dior, I used to be poor When you cross Florida lines, boy, I'm your leor Boobi Boys steal, Boobi Boy's real You can name a lot of lames that the Boobi Boys killed
Brisco line to young nigga, what it do Said he gotta couple kilos and he wanna bring 'em through That's love, we go back to da blue house And if he brought enough I may buy me a new house
You wanna go that route, go there I been on this road before (Uh, huh) I know gunplay, you know gunplay (Yeah) I'm shootin for the win but ready for the loss Both bags on the tip on my finger
Yellin' bring it, I'm swingin' dat iron (Dat iron) When I'm swingin' dat iron (Dat iron)
Nigga how I'm livin', damn near dying For every digit I get, fuck they know 'bout that I aint never put shit on the line, just shit in they rhyme I shoot a nigga shit on a rhyme
Wanna bet nigga, you ain't a threat nigga Never seen a laptop in da projects nigga Just powder, cut with comet, fuck them comics Convicts and buyin' it, if they ain't coppin' or fryin' it
Then don't get a nigga fired up behind sum Fuck shit, ma nigga don't want this Who dat, who dat behind the curtain I'll merk 'em, wizard of oz niggas
Hiding behind money, hiding behind luxury I see 'em shootin' up all that fuck shit It's getting' ugly, got torch on the line Said he got a couple nuns, I told him Grab two koo, bring 'em on through
You wanna go that route, go there I been on this road before (Uh, huh) I know gunplay, you know gunplay (Yeah)
I'm shootin for the win but ready for the loss Both bags on the tip on my finger Yellin' bring it, I'm swingin' dat iron (Dat iron) When I'm swingin' dat iron (Dat iron)
Ain't thinkin' 'bout time Ain't thinkin' 'bout mine Ain't thinkin' bout dyingTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
