Lyrics:
lying for the clout
Oh mofucker that is treason
You ain’t fooling no one
Tell me who the fuck believing
Tell me who the fuck committing treason
Out here
move, I
Ain’t working that move
I ain’t working that move
Riding round hundred bands on
Me, nigga no strap, i ain’t working that one
Say you don’t like
(bands)
One man army, I don't need no man (no man)
Got it out the mud, I ain't need no hand (no hand)
Took my first trip, just me and my plan
Trashed up
conscience is finally clean
Dull your senses layin' at the top of the brain
You've been hung by the shepherd's cane
When the shepherd's cane breaks in half
Old rockin' chair's got me
(Old rocking chair got you, father)
Cane by my side
(Your cane by your side)
Fetch me that gin, son
(I ain't got no
thangs
Fucked off a 4 piece from Wendy's mane
Don't talk to me bout no pimpin mane
My pimpin sweeter than sugar canes
All my hoes say I'm dirty
I tell'em
you get hit with that yopper Makin' that munyun, makin' the guap bands,
Fucking yo' bitch from the back with no hands
toting a cane like a nigga a old
XD45 hit a lil nigga face
Putting him right in his place, I be like that shit crazy
Ain't no niggas snatching my chain
It was bad had to hit me
My cane by my side, (Yes, your cane by your side)
Now fetch me a little gin, son (ain't got no gin, father)
What? 'Fore I tan your hide, now, (you're
My cane by my side, (Yes, your cane by your side)
Now fetch me a little gin, son (ain't got no gin, father)
What? 'Fore I tan your hide, now, (you're
father)
My cane by my side, (yes, your cane by your side)
Now fetch me a little gin son, (ain't got no gin, father)
What? 'fore I tan your hide, now,
cane by my side (yes, your cane by your side)
Now fetch me a little gin, son (ain't got no gin, father)
What? 'Fore I tan your hide, now (you're gonna
My cane by my side, (Yes, your cane by your side)
Now fetch me a little gin, son (Ain't got no gin, father)
What? 'fore I tan your hide, now, (You're
bust her vertebrae
She got a sweet tooth, she finna suck my candy cane
I ain't fucking with y'all chicken heads (Naw)
I'm up here getting head while
Ay, pipe down, I'm taking names
No write down
He wanna talk, and he catching a cane
You know that I ain't mean strikeouts
Pipe down, I need some big
the dozens
I got money by the ton
Just ain't nobody better
Heaven knows that I'm the one
And it's all because of something
That I didn't learn in school
bands I need bands fuck a bitch I'm tryna get rich
Trap I need sticks
Put 400 on my bitch
AMG for the whip
Can't be chasing not no bitch
Pop a perc let's
never been no cane to grind
The cotton's all but gone
And you know this Chevrolet pick-up truck, shewas something, back in '60
Now there ain't nobody
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)The XI, it's popping
(Yeah,yeah, yeah,yeah)The Band's they rocking
(Yeah,yeah,yeah,yeah)The Cops ain't blocking
(Yeah, yeah,
making money on the tour bus (Cash)
Keeping all these bands on us (Bands)
Got these fans on us (Fans)
Keeping me a Glock ain't no hands on us
So you better
give up I’m just no quitter
Didn’t wanna be there when I wanted to grow, but now you by my side when I’m about to blow
This ain’t no Kodak, but still no
My cane by my side, (Yes, your cane by your side)
Now fetch me a little gin, son (Ain't got no gin, father)
What? 'fore I tan your hide, now, (You're
My cane by my side, (Yes, your cane by your side)
Now fetch me a little gin, son (ain't got no gin, father)
What? 'Fore I tan your hide, now, (you're
My cane by my side, (Yes, your cane by your side)
Now fetch me a little gin, son (Ain't got no gin, father)
What? 'fore I tan your hide, now, (You're
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