hunnid bars

I got a hundred dollar bills in my pocket, nigga, fuck them ones Ninety-nine problems, but I bet a bitch ain't never one Ninety-eight my gas, I'm pushin' Forgiatos, skirting dumb Ninety-seven bullets out the clip, that shit gon' leave you done Five rings on every finger, cowboys up in ninety-six Ninety-five point five, I'm DMV raised, don't you try that shit Ninety-four degrees, it's hot as hell, I'm still gon' up the stick Smokin' on some ninety-three, I'm high as hell, it got me ripped Bitch, I feel like Jordan, up in ninety-two, just won the chip Ninety-one's up in your pocket, nigga, you is broke as shit Eighty-nine switches, shit, we runnin' out of Glocks to fit Eighty-eighths up in my system, bitch, I'm bout to take a trip Smokin' eighty-seven round me, do not pass it to me, skip Eighty-six like eighty sticks, we runnin' out of Glocks to fit Eight to five, I never had a job, but I'm still fuckin' rich Up the score, it's eight to four, we bout to go and spin they rip I got eighty-three hoes in my phone, feel like a fuckin' player Eighty times two, a hundred sixty grams in the container I'm droppin' eighty-one shots, feel like I'm Kobe, nigga, see you later Eight to zero, bitch, we winnin' blowouts, keep us on your radar Smokin' on some za, shit got me movin' like I'm seventy-nine Seventy-eight bullets to your face, cause you was wastin' time Feelin' like I'm Luka, droppin' buckets, seven-seven times It's more than seventy-six ways to go get paid, why you still ridin' mines? Seven fives in your spread, nigga, where the hunnids at Seventy-four places to perform, this tour shit got me mad Seventy-three's, I feel like I'm Curry, way I'm shootin' bad Nigga born in 1972 and he's still on my ass Seven-one, just add another one, seven-eleven shit Seven-nothing, bitch, I'm up to somethin', tryin' to catch a lick Omerta, that's the code, no sixty-nine, you better not fuckin' snitch Sixty-eight got sixty eighths, get pulled over, I up the stick Sixty-seven, he get sent to heaven, let him touch my diamonds Sixty-six, the diamond wrist, I probably could've bought a island Sixty-five, the price for my new scat, the engine out here whining You playin' with your life, N64, we'll leave your mother crying Feelin' like I'm Von, the way I never fucked with sixty-third I spent sixty-two up on my feet, my cash up to the birds Niggas riding dick, you born in sixty-one, don't say a word Sixty seconds in a minute, and I'ma make sure that I'm heard Fifty nines up in this truck, bad day to be an opp Sold fifty eighths this week, I ain't think that the sales could stop Fourth and fifty-seven, playin' Madden, bet the team won't swap Fifty-five times out of fifty-six, bet your bitch gon' slop Fifty-four, fifty-three, shit, I'm knockin' lines out I played all fifty-two cards I was dealt, I never had no doubts Fifty ones up in your pocket, can't buy shit with that amount Fifty lines down, got fifty more until this song go out Forty-nine lines to go, I'm really out here chasin' pape Dissin' in a song, I bet you get put on First forty-eight Just a thought, I sat, spent forty-seven thousand, feelin' great I got forty-two bags of that za, that shit got a lot of weight Forty-fifths up in the trunk, you play and you get hit with one It's forty-four degrees, I'm high as hell, I'm out here sweating dumb Forty-three hours up on your shift, you better not sleep on one Sixty minus forty-two, that's eighteen opps I'm smokin' on Why you steady tryna beef, I'm fifteen and you forty-one I'ma up this forty if you run up, is you fuckin' dumb? Thirty-nine hoes up in my DM, they can't get a crumb I shot that thirty-eight so many times, my finger's goin' numb Bent your bitch in thirty-seven ways, I bet she know my name Thirty-six, thirty sticks, this ARP gon' send him back Three-five in the jay, we smokin' the entire pack I got thirty-four shots in this drac' so empty out the sack Ran up with that thirty-three and bagged him, thought his shoes ain't fit him Playin' on my name, I bet this G32 fuckin' kill him Thirty-one up on my back, I'm feelin' like I'm Reggie Miller Thirty in the clip, I'm way too militant, just shoot niggas Fat shit in my clip, you catch my twenty-nine straight to your dome Twenty-eighths, I sold today, I'm feelin' like I'm Al Capone He give me anything less than twenty-seven and he won't make it home I been catchin' fights, I'm like twenty-six miles away from Rome Christmas Day, I pop him in his shit, gift him eternal slumber Feelin' like I'm Kobe, 24, I'm knockin' down the numbers Fuck it, nah, I feel like Michael Jordan, twenty-three, I'm clutchin They give me twenty-two years in the slammer, bet you I ain't sayin' nothin Feelin' like a savage, twenty-one shots, bet his ass gon' feel it Twenty more lines up in this song like, bitch, we almost finished Up this Glock-19, don't got no switch but it's still doin' damage I'm not even eighteen and I'm still richer than your fuckin' family I'm clutchin' on the seventeen, I whip it out, somebody dyin Sixteen, I'm pushin' whips like I just got my fuckin' license I'm only fifteen, so how the fuck my wrist already shining My young nigga fourteen, but off the za, I swear that nigga wiser Feelin' like I'm Jason, hope the thirteen don't fall on a Friday We gon' skip right to eleven because nigga, fuck twelve Ten shots, I'm lettin' go like, fuck it, bout to raise some hell Niggas calling 9-1-1 like, fuck that, I ain't goin' to jail Eighth of Wockiana, I don't skip, so I'ma go and sell Seven years up in the pen, you doin' time inside a cell Bitch, I'm on Route 66, I'm movin' around the country better Five rings up on my fingers, diamonds get her pussy wetter Up the score, it's four to O, that's probably why these niggas hatin Three shots to the top, he movin' reckless, he gotta be patient Two hoes in my phone, don't even think my mind could go and take it One of one, I'm special, made a promise, I won't fuckin' break it