Lyrics:
Atlanta wit' the cartel microwave, boy
Breadwinner Gang, we is mafia material
What up with Big Tony, mafia material
Hand signal
Shoutin' out the plug in
I’m out here getting to the bread
And my shawty waiting for me at the house on the bed
Soon as i get home I’m on some shit
Kiss you on your lips fall
lovely when it's all about the glory
But soon as shit hit the fan, honies be wanna take the kid and scram
I'm having bad thoughts, don't like how dark
the jungle, turn you to spaghetti
Nigga be acting like they are so real
I pull out that chopper let 'em
Niggas see how it feel
Sippin' on actavis, you know how
soon you'll see its finito!
Finito, finito!, Finito, Finito!
So have you house inorder
For you see it's finito!
Yo end could be ushered
By the hands
house
Frat house big blouse
Two tone big clause
Grosso tono
Non prendere le cose che non sono tue ay
Qui in calabria non cè speranza ay
Perché cè le mafia
run
Oh, no me do not mind my part in genocide
Oh, no me do not mind committing homicide
Although the way you live is how you must die
(Blackwater House laura's bedroom
Later the same night laura is still very
Distressed at the night's occurrences she
Is in her white nightgown
that
And them chicks y'all dreaming about
We cleaning them out,One on the block
Two in the car, three in the house
Now that's a real six pack,
the presentation to the Audience
It is now up to the audience to appreciate the finished work
To apply seasoning without tasting is an insult by an uncultured,
ass got tossed
By the mafia king, you were hung by the boss
Havikk, my felonious pitch will lynch a bitch
Smoke and choke any punk on a off-stroke
tossed
By the mafia king, you were hung by the boss
Havikk, my felonous pitch will lynch a bitch
Smoke and choke any punk on a off-stroke
Cause I provide
[Intro: Method Man (Dooney Boy) {Pinky Phat Phat}]
Cool, okay, I'mma let ya'll take it on your own right now
Why don't you do me a favor (What?)
the mommies
The back of the club, sippin Moet, is where you'll find me
The back of the club, mackin hoes, my crew's behind me
Mad question askin, blunt passin,
the mommies
The back of the club, sippin Moet, is where you'll find me
The back of the club, mackin hoes, my crew's behind me
Mad question askin, blunt passin,
Uh, yes, y'all, baby
Yeah, work it out
Work it out, dawg, work it out now
Uh, y'all motherfuckers
Big dawgs in the house, what?
Terror Squad,
it out, you're right, my vision is now
Don't let the prisoner cell build a strut to break out
My brothers at the brick house, the undercover stakeout
nicca cuhz I'm a boss nigga
Watch how I get in watch how we get it in
Watch how I get it in this is how we get it in
Nothing but debauchery and asses
all that shouting
Hatred bubbles and soon you're drowning
Always us v them. Hell, look what I'm spouting?
I make chill music, the bass is pounding
Fly
an L
It's kinda crazy how after I left she not doing well
This shit is temporary got me thinking is like kiss and tell
Then I went and told now I
forget 'em
I ain't need 'em, but my mom's is with 'em (Jesus)
Thirty-eight, look how the streets did 'em (Lord)
All these trophies, but where do I sit
of Emilia-Romagna. It’s a warm September morning and the piazza is crowded with people, watched over by the lofty bell tower of the 12th century Basilica of San
last forever
It's true
I need you
I need to
Show you what it
Show you what it do
So please don't
Please don't leave to soon
This is me and you
Huh
Rewind the clip
Yeah, I'll start by taking back
It's Spring of '17
Sitting shotgun there in my car
You said celebrities are sad, no matter how big or small
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