$500 Ounces
Freddie Gibbs, Roc Marciano, Westside Gunn
Watch: New Singing Lesson Videos Can Make Anyone A Great Singer
Yeah, yeah, Kane train Uh, mic check, check Yeah, mic check, check Uh, yeah, yeah, mic check, check Yeah, uh, uh, mic check, check Yeah, uh, nigga, check, check Yeah, yeah, yeah It's been a long time since I tasted Workin' that hot plate, cookin' in my homeboy basement And Lambo knocked the coke off the table, that nigga waste it I showed him the new straps, the AK with the green laser (bling) I'm on some street shit, my baby mama tweet shit to stir up my haters I'm like, "Why she wanna stick me for my paper? ", but f*ck it, that's life It's what you make it, one day you gon' meet your maker Kobe died, I swear a nigga might cry when I watch the Lakers, damn All our mamas would watch us, boy, we was neighbors But how you look a nigga mom in the face when you shot her baby? (Bow) I got skeletons in my closet, right next to Balenciaga Call me Fred DiBiase, garage is a million dollars, my noggin Yeah, it's just the way that God be plannin' shit I drop a load, I take a load off, that's load management That last lap, I dropped the ho off and bagged a Spanish bitch Pulled out the dick, she snort the coke off, I'm livin' lavishly Yeah, Kane, huh, bitch nigga, you know what it is, baby, yeah Told you from the go Told you from the get go You ain't gotta go home, but you gotta go Uh, ain't no Ls on my jacket The MAC-11 hit your melon and crack it (crack it) Ain't no pads for that in that medicine cabinet (no) Can't mess with whatever's in that gelatin tablet (f*ck that) Ten metal fragments can flip your skeleton backwards (flip 'em) All you seen after that was blackness (mmm) This ain't no backpack shit, he slangs half a brick Bitch, you need to ease back a bit, the trench has cactus pins (ow) The seats in the Benz Lenny Kravitz skin, don't get your cabbage split (tan shit) It don't matter what establishment, we in it (we gettin' shipped the f*ck out) Always get the biggest chicken wing, you don't get to eat on one onion ring At least a hundred Jesus links underneath the mink Yellow Bugatti, look like a bumblebee, compressor on the front to muffle the heat The submachine gun, it come with the beam amongst other things that's unseen To run with me, you need sunscreen cream, see I'm covered in bling (bling) Motherfucker, ain't no shade, even under the trees where monkeys swing (ah-ah-ah) The murder want money green, I'm runnin' the company like a drug ring Livin' comfortably off of gutter and stank That fell upon me once I was done with the streets (uh) You still scheme in public, P, let me bring you up to speed You get your wig spun like a tumbleweed in Belize, I get on the beat and bleed (bleed) Sacrifice of livin' and bein' to please deities Them were VVs, flood the big Nefertiti piece Ayo, I had the rusty .45, I had the MAC too (Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, brr, I had the MAC too, brr) You hang with a rat, you a rat, too (you's a rat, too) We used to chip in on the big, bag it up, that's my rent You take a shift, I take a shift, the feds come, raise my kids Take my phone, keep the licks goin', never bust a brick open (ah) Twelve, twelve baggers was baggin', flaggin' Rick Owens over pots, hand me some ice, he left the fridge open I'm tryna see my kids grow up, y'all niggas' ribs showin' God made light, Dolce Gabbana on my A-like day and night (day and night) My young niggas'll take your life (boom, boom, ah, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom) Eastside niggas'll never change (they'll never change) Brick come through and spill your brains (brr, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, brr)
Watch: New Singing Lesson Videos Can Make Anyone A Great Singer
Written by: Alvin Lamar Worthy, Fredrick Jamel Tipton, Rakeem Calief Myer
Lyrics © INGROOVES MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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"$500 Ounces Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 6 May 2024. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric-lf/1781641/Freddie+Gibbs/%24500+Ounces>.
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