Lyrics:
missionary
Stash a 40 in her purse now that bitch walk heavy
All these pussy niggas rats like Tom and jerry
I’m doing the dash I’m hitting it fast I gotta go
In this Ruth Chris, truth is I'm ruthless
Forty in the-forty in the trunk gone in twenty minutes
That's 80K for the ticket
Everybody-everybody
& duck bob an weave
Will deceive a street corner
And the 40 thieves
They bring em in
You do em in
He bring em in
You do us in
Smell em knockin da/boom
& duck bob an weave
Will deceive a street corner
And the 40 thieves
They bring em in
You do em in
He bring em in
You do us in
Smell em knockin da/boom
them no go take pas my turf
This bars are cleavage I’m a bitch if I don’t get it off my chest
Brain wasn’t gifted by a fat man who ride
Deers
I
Balmain, that Phillip Lim
They say i'm dressing like Kanye
I'm everything that my rhymes say:
Breadwinner, brand owner
Play Cloths, millionaire
Know they gotta feel me
Knowing they gone feel me baby
See bitch I'm racked up back up lil Nigga don't make me act up
Watch how I bob and build
ignorance's
I'm gone
I've been going hard now for 40 days and 40 nights
I can hear my stomach rumble that's the sacrifice
I done made it out that jungle with
music industry fan
Hey yo my man, look at my hand, they look human right?
You think I'm a monster, ill circus clown
Not a specimen, don't look at me
of my shoes
They too timid to even make it a single minute
I was molded by the pain
Shit, I'm Bane, I was raised in it
You and me are not the same
I was
a bra size forty five
And when they played I Will Survive
She went crackers, and her animal desires became much keener
She said John I'm Only Dancing, but
funky nigga that's known to kick the fat shit?
The mirror said "You are, you conceited bastard"
Done by the dogcatcher, dogcatcher, it's
my house
'Fore I grab you by your hair and slap dick to your mouth
Bob Digi, yeah you know who is he
Girl, I fucking slave trade your ass
I whip the hellcat like a Ferrari
Smoke gas like I'm bob marley
My Benz is a widebody
Headshots like a cod lobby
Yea I move weight and I smoke dope
for this
I swear I get it off the love
Louisiana nigga you can tell
By my mothafuckin' grammar
I swear I got 3 hoes with
Me just like I'm Santa
These
bossin' it don't matter what it's costing
Tossing deuces out the roof, but that coupe
While I ride by, players chucking deuces back
Bobs holl'in out "hi"
alone
She fuckin' up my presidents
She ain't got no etiquette
Mad I won't give her dick i'm busy, bitch
Tryna get my pockets fat like elephants
Young boss
of my sweatshirt
Bone 2 the bone 2 the bad 2 the bad 2 the bone
Hit bound from the Mo-town allen
Fuck a 40 I drink it by the gallon
I started out
more turkeys than bitches
With your fat ass
Fix your cash in a grab bag
By the time you touch your toes
Motherfucker I'll be in Baghdad
[E-40
think I'm Malcom X, Martin Luther
Add a King, add a Junior
Some bible verses, couple sunnas
An AK-47 that's a revolution!! (nigga)
Think I'm Tupac, Bob
Please don't try to play me
I got shooters around my way
Smoking like I'm Bob
The za got me Outta space
I ain't hungry took a perky to the face
Girl
Cause niggas lack substance
And I lack spare time
Cookie cutter niggas come a dozen by the dime
I'm a rarity
Come sparingly
A one of one kind
And like
my house
'Fore I grab you by your hair and slap dick to your mouth
Bob Digi, yeah you know who is he
Girl, I fucking slave trade your ass
When the Perc start hittin', got my body feelin' heavy
The forty and the MAC, late night off Dele'
I see him by the store then he dyin' by the Deli
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