Wheel of Fortune

On the road for thirty days and thirty nights No punches through this bitch Doing thirty fights Circled on the opp block We hit thirty rights Looking at my future like you staring Up at thirty lights Don't ask what's in the cup Don't you see me with the Drank God? Don't ask do it hit Don't you see me with the Punch God? Tapped in, get a nigga touched like a iPod She wanna make a movie Set the cam on the tripod Punching like a black belt I'm a card master Emotionless, I'll leave a Bitch heart shattered Good cappage on the 'Gram You're a star actor In store with fire, bitch I'm flaming like I'm Charmander Yeah, pop a school bus, I'm a bar master Big chop that'll knock a nigga car backwards Two beams on a Glock like car hazards Drank God, bitch I'm balling like March Madness With all this energy, boy must be Duracell For all the grannies that I jugged I might burn in Hell Brought the slides in store That's the burning smell Come and get this Fraud Bible, boy It's working well No cap, this BIN gon' put my niggas all on She ain't sucking dick? She should spin And send her ass home I can't wait till Apple drop them iPhones She a real freak She don't do it with the lights on Game sliders cranked up I done found the glitch D1 with the punch work Come and scout the kid In BOA acting bad, boy, I'm counting slips Life jacket underneath the fit I might drown in drip So much water on my neck I might drown the bitch Greyhound, only time that I hound a bitch Finna do a turn around for Right now and a six What's that stanking in my pocket? A pile of shit Money on the floor I'm spinning hoes like the Wheel of Fortune Spikes on my toes, you a crumb, boy You still in Jordans What you paid for yo fit Was my bill in Morton's Even when I'm six feet deep But I'm still important You ain't getting money You just be where the rappers be I better not catch you lame-ass Niggas where the bitches be I ain't got a heart I just like to wear it on my tee Middle finger to them lame niggas That ever doubted me Feel like Lil Tecca I just held an opp for ransom Grabbed the jacks and disappeared I am not a phantom SB blasting off, boy, yo rocket landing Pull up like I'm Stone Cold Let the choppa slam him Think I'm shooting videos How I'm copping cannons Finna pour the Hi Tech Hold the Wock' for ransom I don't be fucking with no rats Niggas hot as Tampa Me and dropped a eighth in a drop of Fanta Bitch