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I'm tryna be great ass nigga I been that nigga Go ahead and ask ya bitch Clout chasing on a nigga Cuz he tryna get rich I'm stepping on a pussy boy If
built for it Go and find your blessing Most these bitch boys just wish for it Got me cracking up Back 'em up Show the distance They thought they had
I got the chance Life is clear as a window when you get by your past Always beauty in the pains like mosaic glass So let me tell them boys I love 'em
of these niggaz guns right here boy! It's goin down! [Chorus: x2] I told 'em I told 'em I told 'em I told 'em I told 'em I showed 'em I showed 'em I
slow So I copped all em snap crackle pop Bars Yo favorite snack But you far from a taste Fall from ya grace ch I don't rock wit you (But ya know by
I need a record from hit boy I’m lit boy Didn’t keep your hands to they self this what you get boy This what you get boy This what you get I
fly to London then I better get a pony I put young boy on my shit because it’s macaroni I don’t need a Grammy, or an Oscar or a tony I just stick
that a peace of mind Money all mine, Jordans on feet Girls gone wild, bunnies on skeet Schoolboy and Dope Boy, boy, that's some shit S55 fly by, that's
you get up in it Damn, let me see you work I can tell that you a flirt I don't want it 'less it hurts boy Let me see you sweat Grab me by the fucking
yeah, uh, what, free throwing Tell 'em throw some Keef on Okay make it drop like free fall Pop, stop, default Now bring it up, seesaw Yee-haw, I'ma
wrapped around a fuckin' white brick White chick, try to tell me what the price is Nice kids, we was tryin' rob 'em hundred bands Son of Sam, make
Yeah Beyond the music boy I go by the name Giddyup I do this for you Because you like it I do this for you Because you like it You like it yeah you
bars for days But there's no going back Same times gota bowl of that Aww fuck off Should get a Grammy All that huuh that I sold Boy I Live by a code
Alright, alright. Thank you so much ladies and gentlemen right here, Right here I want to tell you a little story. This is about a country boy
life I don't know, on my life Yo, nigga check the stacks, check the results We in your top five by default I swear to God we're putting UK rap
(uh-uh) Names, I don't say those (nah) Well-connected, I could get a table at Rao's (uh) Made man, I like the sound of that (yeah) Tell 'em that
Come on boys and girls Play the telephone game Whisper to one person It's hella gon change They whisper to someone else and tell the wrong thang
Mourn 4 Me Produced By: ARoc Lyrics Written By: F.A.M.E Hook: If I died today would they bury me a gangsta Would they come to my coffin stand over
to hurt me, my momma dead so fuck 'em A small timer on the rise, so nothin' I feel To my niggas in the county, I might do a bit with ya Boy, in the streets
happy now, Turning my back Nothing to say! "Hey tell this jerk to take a hike, There's somethin' 'bout that boy I don't like" "Well sugar he don't
Pennsylvania and some from Maryland To see the Rebel boys get spanked by Honest Abe's broad hand We said we'll run â??em to Atlanta and to Galveston Bay But
through the hood Just stopped by to say what's up And let you know Your baby boy ain't doing so tough And even though you passed Going on four long
hard as fuck, I make you ask what was it Boy you should have known by now, Eazy does it I was knocking motherfuckers out What's your name boy Funky,
clothes And by the end of the night I'll have a million hoes I like hood boys Yeah They from the gutter He got lots of bitches I wish I could tell his
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