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The throb slap in the Ghost Put your finger on the trunk, feel the pulse I never leave the teepee without the toast You see the liquid on my chain, I flamboast When I'm higher than Pluto, I eat menudo Pastel de elote, might think I'm an esé I sleep with my cuete, I'll leave your ass wete Vallejo, Cali-harm-ya, 7-O-siete The Good Book is my buckler and shield Death could come outta nowhere, like when the rock hit your windshield That's why I always keep a rototiller When I'm out there in the field in the traffic making deals Every stack I get, like Kaepernick, I kneel Ain't talking about no dinner but I need a meal Release my niggas down waiting for appeal In a gladiator tank, sharks and eels... BIATCH! And these days, gotta watch who you trust Keep that pistol by my side, in this block I trust I came from nothin' so I had to run it up They just wanna see me fail, they don't wanna see me up And I know the Lord chose me To have the vision in what most don't see I got money, started hating on me Niggas that I used to love tryna stonewall me And I know money bring hate but I'ma keep getting this cake And no, my soul won't change Real niggas can't relate to the fake And niggas wanna see me fall, so on my momma, I'ma ball I know niggas wanna see me fall, so on my momma, I'ma ball, ball Off top Tommy, rollin' up a mummy Thumbin' through his money, thumper by his tummy Blowin' on a branch, higher than an avalanche Hazy like a forest fire in a Napa Valley ranch Cash flow Cliff, sippin' on a fifth Spill more liquor on his shirt, got a hole in his lip Sitting on some cheddar and them niggas know better Semi-auto wetter fly your head like a feather Honey coochie slap, smell like a Life Saver Baby booty stacked like a Sunday newspaper Bitch, I'm a mack, not a caped crusader Captain-Save-a-Batch? Nope, I check yaper Money on my mind, money on my mind If I do the crime, I'ma do the time Never drop a dime, never drop a dime Hold water on my chest, high alkaline And these days, gotta watch who you trust Keep that pistol by my side, in this block I trust I came from nothin' so I had to run it up They just wanna see me fail, they don't wanna see me up And I know the Lord chose me To have the vision in what most don't see I got money, started hating on me Niggas that I used to love tryna stonewall me And I know money bring hate but I'ma keep getting this cake And no, my soul won't change Real niggas can't relate to the fake And niggas wanna see me fall, so on my momma, I'ma ball I know niggas wanna see me fall, so on my momma, I'ma ball, ball (ProHoeZak music)
Writer(s): Stephen Paul Robson, Danny Mark Wells, Jeffrey Steele Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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