Lyrics:
wild image a lot
And everybody seems to think I have a sinister plot, I do
Be offended by every sentence I jot
I got some militant thoughts and you ain't
better catch up like some sauce on my burger
They call me the goat but I'm not dewayne carter
Fuck the traction bro spinning out all in the charger
Imma
(Covered all in Bape)
Take a bitch home to my spot
But I don't know her name
(Know her name)
Hit it from the back
Then tell her get out
Bitch you cannot stay
a passport
Sprint to them racks boy
Cause I Gotta get me some more
I can tell by the way that they lookin that I got em mad boy
What you goin out sad for
Go
my own!
(Can you tell em man?)
I got my own, got my own!
Snoop, Snoop!
I don't need no chick to buy me shit
See that whip outside? yeah, that's my
this hoe then I'm taking a break
My eyes are low boy I'm deep outta space I got so damn high I thought my shit was laced
Who the fuck in the car that
door open
so a nigga can come in there real slow.
Yeah.
You got a job, I got a life, you got a man, I got a wife
Baby girl, baby boy, that's
the glass paint and then you passed it
Had to go tell all the boys how I felt they responded by telling me Lel
Is she really the one that you wanted get with
, shoot some, huh?)
Kill one, beat one
Shoot some, hit one
Kill one, beat one
You say you gon' do it then slide on me
I got a .4 and a .5 on me
I
Soulja Boy Tell 'Em hopped up out the bed turn my swag on
Took a look in the mirror said what's up
Yeah I'm getting money oh
Hopped up out
If its leo then its knockin'
Tell em fuck em stand on it
Tryna run up some bread put some bands on you
Kay Flock let it bust with moncler on me
Boy
profit
Stacking ten & bens
Them peoples round the corner, steady watching
Trynna catch the kid
I play it like it's chess, make a move, got 'em ducking lid
down
I ain't really tryna know her name (yeah)
Never wanna hear me out
Gotta tell me which side you claim
Let it set in, watch 'em all crawl back
Send
see me with Boy Better Know
I've got some sort of firearm in the pocket
So if I don't send for the bucky and pop it
Send for the taser
Put it on a pussy
Soulja Boy tell em.
Uhh, bitch I look like Goku.
Bitch I look like Vegeta, im hoppin out that oldschool.
'64 Impala, swagged up.
Bitch I'm poppin
the rot
Okay okay Soulja boy tell em Soulja boy tell em
Whats going on today mayne
How could he be selling cause he could snap and the beat is real heavy
Call it the gator man my cross over good
That's how I shake dem haters man ye
I got girls all over
Tell me what cha like and I'll call em over
I'm a high
on the stockin' cap
Tryin' to pick this way
I'm (I'm) in the back with the play sta'
A little boy (boy) came and gave me an invitation
Said there's
you what I know
Been there done that can't tell me I don't know
Got my masters in the streets bust to bust trap on swole
Know some stunnas who ain't
In a whip full of hoes on the road like I'm trafficking
Do the math, we got more bands and some drums
Add it up and tell y'all nigga that y'all done
Feeling high raid, Feeling high paid
Sipping on my drink and blowing my weed
Some of these niggas they got to die with me
Every one of these niggas got
taste, in front of friends the bag
got the shopping bags and the rest on rest
soulja boy just tell them i got the text in place
got a hundred ones i
to catchin' a Wraith
Banana boy, up in my Bape
I'm tryna catch me an eighth
They tryna touch on my safe
I cannot barely can sleep
I gotta lay with my peeps
'm hollerin for you I got three 50's and eight 20's
I'll give you these three 50's if you rollin wit me
the rest goin on a mothafuckin hotel
Soulja Slim got
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