Lyrics:
Bitch I'm the reason
I be balling all season photogenic with the shots I be hitting not missing
I'm a demon, buck shots stop your breathing
Bitch I'm
dick, don't talk, give top (Huh)
Opp bitches low-key love Chief Keef
These opp bitches low-key love GB (Huh)
I'm getting tree-tree, getting head by
Mink Miu Miu boots got me tip toin'
Leather sweatpants, that's Rick Owens
Skinny so the blick showin'
Semi with the dick showin'
Private 757 big
might pay for this
So I just say what I want like I'm made for this
But I'm just afraid some days I might be wrong
Maybe that's why me and Mike get
and yo it's givin me a boner
I got thoughts of Annie Oakley
But that buck toothed tramp in that last town she broke me
And we didn't even fuck
I
them bucks
WAWAWA
I showed all the zeroes my zeroes, they left in a hearse
Then sold one of my heroes Berried Alive merch
Haters all claim my shit is
the dirt
Her hustle match my hustle, so it works
This thing high-key, not low-key nothing
No discussion, just busting motions. So no one knows it
I could be
in for the mill, where the bucks at?
She see me spend a couple mill like fuck that
She wanna ride on it like a bus pass
Give me smart brain and a dumb
your butt back
Tuned in for the mill, where the bucks at?
She see me spend a couple mill like fuck that
She wanna ride on it like a bus pass
Give me
Hip-Hop in heavy doses, Buck Bowen
Lyrically ferocious, my approach is
Let the drum be my guide line, no controlling
On stage with a boldness, crowd
just got her Chanel, that's money well spent
Um, and I got me some rick
Them Owens I'm flee, that's money well spent
What you drinkin'? I just poured up
Rather just be by myself
Canadian Goose with the Vancouver elk
I'm bugged out, got me tapped out
Two perc 10's and they good for my health
Ooh, I'm
drive by
So if you're ready for it
Smoke dro for it, tell 'em
An' if you're hatin', fuck nigga what's happenin'
Adamsville, Watts,
Westside,
Passin' niggas with pants saggin'
With they hand on a black Magnum
To clap him backwards
So their last words is, "Kcuf meht nmad saggin"
That's
How can I? How can I? How can I?
Get up, make a buck
Get up, make a buck
My race was bred on hash
My race was bred on hash
Get up, make
to be leavin' the glock glock nine, But I'm livin' so low down,
Bone gotta roll out, We livin' like Trues, Give up to tha bang,
Always stay down for my
Lum
Ho hum Pound to the beat of my drum
The dumb are intrigued spit ivy school dreams
Foolish extremes got me to bob & weave cut thru the breeze
I
need help
I get the job done so all you fake rappers, MC's rap masters
Give it up leave that rappin' to me
Realizin' young buck you can't rock that
for rhymes
You got to save it for David and wave it if you think that I gave it
I never gave a damn about a critic so save it
I run amuk demanding
know all my niggas runnin' it up
Big bag Big bag Gotta get the bucks
All my niggas winnin' We ain't never in to switchin' up
Transcribed by
(Drum Dummie)
(Drum Dummie made the beat and you know they killin' it)
Oh, this Drum Dummie who made this beat, huh?
I ain't flashin', though
tried to come cross me
Got left on a T
I'm steady trapping
Ain't get nothing to eat
Rolling him up
Know We stuffing the tree
Runtz got me low
Like a nigga
out I
Caught iron in my clothes
Stuck without my wratchet
Buck in my bread basket
Ear drums soft from lead to
Bounce off the floor injured
My leg in
amazed (amazed)
Condo by lane it's the mall in
Ain't no one nigga, we all win (we all win)
Beat up that pussy, get tall in (tall in)
Lambo so low gotta
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