$tacks (feat. Chris The Jit)

Beatsbyjune Say June Yea... Yea... Bih lil bih bih Yea... it's nothing... Fuck em bih Yea Yea Yea I'm running I'm running I'm running my stacks up steady running my cash up And if it's a go I tell my niggas load up them choppers and go put that mask up Steady running from 12 jumping the fence by the pair I'm like why them people trying to track us I got no time for a hoe only bitch I got time for is face down with that ass up ok She give me diploma The drop to the coupe is insane it don't got a brain she know that I own it Smoking cookie you can smell the aroma packs coming in across the water oyster You think it's a game for that stain and I'm on ya I promise that you don't want to feel the pneumonia Next thing you know his body off in the river he snorkeling Pouring that muddy stuff all in that double cup I'm in the lead and you niggas some runner ups I'm in your town it ain't big for the both of us Imma keep shooting until it's just one of us Why is your bitch on the floor trying to back it up If she ain't fucking I till her to pack it up If she a eater I might go and buy her something Louis that Fendi and Gucci that Prada stuff Making a play by the day I'm in this bitch with the gang It's suddenly starting to rain I gave you too many chances I said I ain't have it you said I was fake It ain't no way I'm flyer than Rudolph that mean imma slay Open face six with the fangs it ain't a game Racing to the money like I'm Usain brand new set came yesterday Counting these riggidy racks We got your bitch in the cut if she ain't trying to fuck then I'm sending her back Purple thoughts on me I'm sipping on act Yellow bone on me I hit from the back Ain't no way imma die if I don't have my strap Don't play with them bricks got white on my lap Don't play with them sticks it's hella bodies on the dirty gat I go Goku with that bigger flow Selling you Dreams with a kiss and a mistletoe Special beam on the canon like I'm Piccolo my pockets be criping so bitch come and pick a loc Seven double O for the clothes like James Bond And Rest In Peace that nigga James Bond Fucking your bitch in this hoodie like Trayvon Blowing up on these fuck niggas like napalm I'm running I'm running I'm running my stacks up steady running my cash up And if it's a go I tell my niggas load up them choppers and go put that mask up Steady running from 12 jumping the fence by the pair I'm like why them people trying to track us I got no time for a hoe only bitch I got time for is face down with that ass up ok She give me diploma The drop to the coupe is insane it don't got a brain she know that I own it Smoking cookie you can smell the aroma packs coming in across the water oyster You think it's a game for that stain and I'm on ya I promise that you don't want to feel the pneumonia Next thing you know his body off in the river he snorkeling