Lyrics:
don't play 'round
Shoot 'em in his face if
That boy ever play wrong weed by the pound
With a wholе 'lotta heroine
32 shots if a nigga evеr run down
But you just a tard uh
(Retard)
Got a nickname for you
It's Rick Retarduh
Yo don't front
That bag too small for a strap
Fake pulling out
Get shot up in
look outside and I'm already upset yo
It look about a hundred-and-two
It's a Saturday and Biggie ain't got nuttin' to do
Uhh, I'm intrrupted by
look outside and I'm already upset yo
It look about a hundred-and-two
It's a Saturday and Biggie ain't got nuttin' to do
Uhh, I'm intrrupted by
a class
You play with the gang and now they on yo ass
She giving me neck ain't talking bout giraffe
I do what I want cause i don't gotta ask
I count up
before yo moms be writtin y'all eulogy
I know you see me you mad that a nigga changed
Gotta tote straps now cuz shit just ainn the same
Momma realized
Surrounded by plastic cups
They looked like unfinished drinks to me
A reaper look alike appeared from the abyss
Smoking a spliff
Yo you got the P
Yo you got
I got shottas front yo move you know we strap like navy seals
I'm moving weight around like in the gym this shit just vacuumed sealed
Make a play do
on yo list
Pretty sure it was Cole, Drake, Larry June, me and Spitta
By the time you hear this, it be, early Yesvember
Wrote this verse on October first
cuffed up
(Yuh)
And you know I'm motha-fuckin
Buffed up
With my brothers by my side
And you know we staying
Bucked up
(Yuh, Yuh)
Told that bitch to step up
Not with me in it
You puddle deep, I'm shoveling, dog this that deep diggin
Shit, At ease spitting, yo nephew and niece listen
To Markus and get
ass back over, what the fuck's wrong with you?)
(Yo, what's happening? Is that your nigga or something?) Ay
Look check this shit out, that nigga, he
Gangstas
With one snap guaranteed to make you famous
With one glock by my side bitch I'm dangerous
I keep a pistol by my side just to stay alive
And bitch I
down at some point
So I keep the heater by my nuts
Cause if I strap it to my back
And a nigga stab me in it
They gone have me at gun point
And I don’t
we gettin' it, we gettin'
I fuck with Yo Gotti and Dolph
So this shit ain't my business, my business
You need a pack and the
Money good, I'ma send it,
Live by the gun die by the same shit you bust
Fly bitches with waves from DC to Cali
Rally and tally up my dough
For the grand finale
Grapevines
okay with me
I'll do my steps all by myself
I don't need nobody to play with me
But if you just give me a chance
I can put you in a trance the way I
them shells go eat yo back
I'm in the regal with the strap and I keep four pockets full but my waistband go hold the Gat
You go get murdered tryna fuck
by the end of the night
This facts
Caps blowing out yo back
Straps so you cant relax
Baby wont tap
Kinky she dont need to breathe yeah
Think she
jack
Niggas undercover so I keep the Mac
Yea my dogs attack
Yea we got them straps
We shooting out 30 clips to be exact
We wearing all black
Yea we
hanging out the window with the straps out
Making money I feel like a cash cow
Hopping in the whip I’m bout to smash out
N****s hated on me guarantee that
[Chorus: Repeat 2X]
I been there - been there
Done that - done that
You got guns? - we got guns...
Yo, I got straps - we got straps
about to talk my shit (Project X)
'Cause I really run this shit you heard?
Ain't no nigga fuck with me, I said what I said
(Look, what?)
(Look, ayy)
Throw, yo' hands highhh wave 'em side to side
Throw, yo' hands highhh wave 'em side to side
Throw, yo' hands highhh wave 'em side to side
Throw, yo
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