Lyrics:
Bipolar when I spazz
Baby moma on my ass
Shit I ain't been free in a month
Sleeping in the yo gotta stay on task
Waking up to a pre-roll blunt
All
the air
My gang ain't showing respect
We ride threw yo hood
We let off some shots everybody on the block get wacked
In the vill selling dope in
Pull up step back in ya face
I ain't going for the cap by the way
Pulling strings like a cat holiday
Jumping off a big porch, bombs away
Cuz almost went
Yo, yo, yo, yo, Check it,
Blunts get blown in the studio when we kick back
We kill tracks, I write raps and I spit that
I admit that he grabbed my
bury me under
Big pipes soundin like thunder
Skated by the skin of my teeth, I had to put a man in his place last week
Now why you want to come at me?
drop create a earthquake
Yo, anyway we still double masking
And get the gambit and eat super pie niggas
All over the track with a kick in your back
I
rats
And I'm the hood Dora, talk yo stuff I'll take you off the map
Parker stay dick riding swear ill blow his ex's back
I-I was really bored at my crib,
the docks
Back to the hood ain't makin' no stops
Going up every day like I'm the stocks!
Cookies I smell it I opened the box
Can't trust nobody, they sly like
college
I'm a cold piece of (?) - slide through the park
and come back every fifteen minutes in a different car
on the strength of flamboastin
get high
I might wave hi..
.. at a pretty young girl that walk by
But yo, you all that, you can't stop?
A-with the weave in your head like a mop?
on my grind ever
Since they elected Mayor Goode
If you play the hood it's gon eventually move
So I started hustling in elementary school
Getting cold cash
a blowjob.
You motherfuckers need to back up,
Stay in yo domain don't switch lanes I ain't fucking with no false claims.
You got damn right I gotta fucking
that gotta bust you
Livin’ like a don hoe
It’s Curry in these frontos
Blow em back to back shit I ain’t even tryna drive home
Brody said I gotta flight
that gotta bust you
Livin’ like a don hoe
It’s Curry in these frontos
Blow em back to back shit I ain’t even tryna drive home
Brody said I gotta flight
be weary, watch for caution, yo be warned
By Dre and out the project born
Capable in any and every
Cause yo I get heavy, when introduced to a medly
(In my city that's the way we ride)
Top down, riding clean
Aye clique, my old school is official, got them horses under my hood
Yea I'm ridin'
back, I am not Mitch
(Helluva made this beat, baby)
Gettin' money, why these niggas gettin' mad?
Jump off the plane with a couple of M's in the bag
If
runnin' up in Saks with the ill army
Shake Feds, play dead, yo check out what Rae said
Lay on your hands, let the Branson break bread
High energy, all
probation day
But its dangerous in prison
So he made himself a shank
Ima ride for my family ties
Bought a gun cause my hood is not nice
All I want is to be
ya hit the lotto (Uh)
So you don't have to slave no more (Yeah, yeah)
In the hood we flip things to them fiends (Uh huh)
Cause even hood niggas got
(Ooouuu)
I'm stuck in the hood with cats and crooks
I move like a boss, I'm steady
On your marks, get set, I'm ready
Pop dat nigga like Nas did in Belly
corner, hood, trap, resident and yard
Through God
I gone get it Boy
Through the Father
Fendi, Louis, Gucci, Ferragamo, Prada
Still have a lot that I can
think a nigga slow
Whole time a nigga passed it, bitch I'm Tom Brady in the snow
My boy a running back, hadda hand it off cause we close
Like a lumber
and move it
Come back with them 50's
She a good girl but wit a hood nigga and committed
What's understood girl don't needa be said sit back and listen
Do
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