Lyrics:
got done by them Russians (grrah, grrah)
Shit get ugly, everybody with me thuggin' (thuggin')
They keep they pistol out, no regular clips allowed
(But you thought that I was crazy)
I was small but now I'm bigger
Gettin' money with all my niggas (Let's go)
Every day, still tote that pistol
I'm not
ed, tell a story of the streets
[big ed]
My nigga jay got his ass snatched, why wasn't he strapped
Kidnapped by four niggas dressed in black
Ahh dats
throw that molotov
I need One Hundred
Two Hundred
Three Hundred Four
Racks in my pocket
If you want to book Kid Lord
One Pistol
Two Pistol
Three Pistol
Legend out the 2-6 (Whoa)
Y'all know who the truth is (Whoa)
Crazy like a movie by that nigga Stanley Kubrick (Whoa)
Perfect time to pop up (Whoa)
Wet
Used to gettin' thanks from (?)
Setting numbers in the hood, do what I say
Do tell 'em niggas break bread or fake dead
It (?) dead
50 million, I done
mouthed so they gettin tossed up
You better be about yo business cuz its going down
Niggas gettin' out, two weeks later they body found
I can't be fuckin'
Oh my goodness
Is that Mister Offbeat?
Ooh
Oh I'ma ride for my niggas, yeah
I need a pistol, mane
All these niggas fuckin' fake
No I don't need no
Spurting, Spiritual, Lyrics
Like the Holy Koran
N****s get Shook Like 5-0
My 4-5 gun is next to me when we ride
Plus Survival
Money Making plans
Pistol
to me when we ride, for survival
Money makin' plans, pistol close at hand, swollen pockets
Let me introduce the topic, then we drop it
Expose snakes
I was getting off Xans
Thots came, that was all planned
And I got my pistol in my hand
I will blow this pistol in my hand
That's your your friend,
insane, with this pit bullet I'm locked mane
A nigga get love in the streets mane,
Cause a nigga gotta get that cheeze mane.
[Chorus] (Repeat 2x)
[Playa
on time, cuz he's always on his grind
Sweetapple Wes mane
Ya, now who that still slingin cocaine
Lookin so strange
Ridin in his own lane while he gettin
about makin' money, gettin' yours
And knockin' coppers off the motherfuckin' planet
Word to the motherfuckin' nine nigga
We gonna make this
Hustling by the building
Just stacking the money up to the ceilin'
Ain't no penicillin finna hit 'em
When I'm dealing with em ask Yung Berg
Where we go
yea yea)
In your mind, I call my pistol 'cause it stay by me
(Uh-huh)
That's like my brother, lucky mothers
We ain't nothin' to see
(Uh-huh)
I like the green guap
Money on me an it's making
Yo mane bitches jeans drop
It's Blink
Nah nah nah nah nah
I like that green guap (yeah)
Money on me
ain't fuckin' with us
Don't want no lames around me that be fakin' with me
I be with my gang forever, they be with me
I wake up gettin' money 'cause I
Niggas talkin' be specific
Finger pointing, finger itching
Pistol whippin', pistol twitchin'
See them runnin', match description
Don't mind me, just
All I ever wanted was a bad bitch and alotta loot pistol by my side
In case I got to shoot all I ever wanted was a bad bitch and alotta loot pistol by
y'all
So drop to your knees
That's the position, assume it bitch
You slip and you're soon to get
Fucked up by a lunatic
Decide to pack a gat
Well
15 bullets pistol chrome got a blunt it shine so rip it slow
Shits so broke my love is gone no more pictures by the midsole toe
Fuck the lovers we
Damn yo shit, man i jus had a bad ass mutha fuckin dream bleap bleap man (mane wat the fuck you want), i jus had a bad ass mutha fuckin dream man
Throw it up
cnd ima throw it back
Gettin chaffered in this Cadillac
Follow me I dont follow back
Cuz I'm
Gettin money.
Get money
Stop worrying
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