[Hook] They tried to run off with the flame and I blocked em' in I swear yo hoe gon' get that flav if Im on her head (whew) Pulled up in that fifteen thing And I ain't goin' in if I can't bring my whoolie in If I can’t get it then my whole got the whoole in Ain't no sans or no percs then you ain't cruisin' in I might just hit your blunt depending what you smoking in Preferably a backwood stuffed both ends
[Verse 1] Stuffed both ends of the backwoods in this motherfucker You do my job that mean we flame brothers I pull one bitch she pull up on me with six others You know I ride with that mail get shit [?] Pouring up some syrup that make my sprite another color I put her in a sixty [?] she can’t be my hoe unless she freaky like she from rocafeller Cartier this shit, I got real shooters So I don't condone the beef shit Bankroll mafia in a three six I got hoes watching me like Netflix Shit, Pull up at the spot make a sick flick Hit my cali number when you pulling off the exit Yeah we got the same jeweler you got wack shit My neck click, while yo bitch up like Brett Flick Let me find out she really got these hoes arrested Cuffing on em is a major violation, cause we chop em up then its segregation She must got something to put on one of these bracelets Muddy time what water in the face shit Old hundreds in the middle hundreds Purple drank red drank I let the green slump me I let the yellow slump me
[Hook] They tried to run off with the flame and I blocked em' in I swear yo hoe gon' get that flav if Im on her head (whew) Pulled up in that fifteen thing And I ain't goin' in if I can't bring my whoolie in If I can’t get it then my whole got the whoole in Ain't no sans or no percs then you ain't cruisin' in I might just hit your blunt depending what you smoking in Preferably a backwood stuffed both ends
[Verse 2] Ain't shit sweet, not letting a bitch go The lean sweet, Im on some crisco All these hoes cold blooded and my wrist cold Bay area kush, Frisco I fuck with white girl that snort coke the disco I fuck with black girls that do her the Guwop And we never gave a fuck about that rap check We’ll go back inside that motherfuckin shoe box Balenciaga high top, right now I got on Rebok GS6 I'm riding round with the G Lock I got a twelve band jug on my line right now I let these streets turn me to a fuckin' cash cow James Brown all that shit I wear that black and proud I got them trappers with me right now They say they Snootie Wild You ain't shit if you ain't never been geeked out For that gas and that drank I got a sweet spot If I let up on these pussies I'm granting wishes I used to put pounds in a expedition I know you heard bout the guys I forgot to mention All these hoes we ran through We ride with two or three bangers for Sick of the AP I'm bout to go Harry Winston Put some diamonds in that bitch look like Bill Clinton
[Hook] They tried to run off with the flame and I blocked em' in I swear yo hoe gon' get that flav if Im on her head (whew) Pulled up in that fifteen thing And I ain't goin' in if I can't bring my whoolie in If I can’t get it then my whole got the whoole in Ain't no sans or no percs then you ain't cruisin' in I might just hit your blunt depending what you smoking in Preferably a backwood stuffed both endsTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.