Lyrics:
(ice)
Yeah, playin' for keeps (keeps)
Suck up the gang, she a leech (leech)
Came in the game with a key (key)
My pockets blew up, Monique (Monique)
background]
DJ Khaled!
When I ride, I ride for Trey-0-5
Trick Daddy! (When I ride, I ride for Trey-0-5)
Rick Ross!
Pitbull!
The Bottom!
Listen
in my area
If it all falls through then I'm calling up Erica
To fake love and daydream
Feels like everyday I surrounded by screens
No trick cards I'm
coming out empty
Settle for less I could never onG, I'm just tryna bring one for the family
If they keep claiming vendetta on me, I'll pull up with K so
to mob with
No green to choke
Hard times got me whinin'
Conversation and kickin' it
Hooked up with a little trick
Now I'm back on my pimpin'
Bankroll got the bitches bad on the pole
Pull up to the club, I let it go let it go
They call me young Quavo throw
Young Quavo throw
We get ignorant in
an A to the K
Get your ass spayed like bidets breakin' your legs
Eight different ways, aim for the waist, you chumps don't
Even know how to do somethin'
a night
How you do that trick to hypnotize ?
Me in a shuffle dance, you by the light
I think it's time to fix our glances
just in time to lick you beside
the whole FTK
You know, Mr. Mike Love, Bulumaster, what up!
Can't forget, Veedaugh, DJ Pharus, Coops, DJ Timbuktu
K-scratch, The Base Man, Boogie Boy
Dj
I made the change from a common thief
To up close and personal with Robin Leach (yeah)
And I'm far from cheap
I smoke skunk with my peeps all day
(Klack-klack-klack-klack-klack-klack-klack-klack-klack-klack)
Yo, the year of the Blacksmith
It ain't defined by any calender
Just thought I'd remind all you challengers, uh
Clothes different
You caint fit in my jeans
Giving thottie bi***es nothing
Buddha pockets
Just to hold up the breesh
Gimme neck aint no discussion
Tailing
Well down south we drivin bentleys and jaguars
And we play all our hoes like a game of flash cars
[H.A.W.K.]
Down south we bout that dolla dolla
Grab
This is music to be murdered by
Got a premonition
I feel the end is near
The beauty starts to fade
My joy has turned to pain
I hear the symphony
synonyms for some Slim 'ol
Imitating little midget bitch ass
Menacing women men
And they can't beat this with they cheap tricks
Cos to me it's weak shit
gots no heart
Ain't no love trick
The trigga gots no heart
Ain't no love trick
Me shootin' him up me shootin' him up
If he no give my pay
Ain't
(Grrr)
(Ha)
I guess that’s my tag, right
(Ayoo)
These n****s chatting (like rats)
I f**k a bag up (and get it back)
I shut it down when I’m
date
Since I've been thinkin' bout actin' like Tay-K and doin' the race
My life is a move, I don't even like bringin' it up
But Unc Went in blew out his
when your album drop?"
As soon as you finish swelling
I'm finished thank you
Pull your draws up on your waist
Wipe that s*** up out your face
how we like to do them yo, yo
Up and down side to side like them low, lows
You know, I know, these bitches can't crack us
Once met a trick that was
to return
My only concern is making sure that Hollywood burn
Hollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass niggas (yeah, yeah)
Is all up in the game
to blow when you get hot
Before I trick out on a bitch, I rather let my money rot
For now I make my money work and stack this paper with my team
80K inside
L's or the K's on top of the hats
There ain't no place in the world that was popping like that
If you was there then you know how real it could get
But
havin no cheesy like us main!
They ain't havin no raveez!
Shit.
Haha you know us.
Where K-Ceeezi at man? Tell him sing that shit.
Lace dem fools
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