Square Biz (feat. RMC Mike & Allstar JR)

Every day to feed twelve kids

Mm, mm, mm, mm

Hey, hey, bitch (Smokey tryna smoke a ****)

Look, look, hey

I'm on the phone with the plug, talking square biz

Yeah, ayy

Make enough money, mm, make twelve, alright

It's like this, look, ayy

I'm on the phone with the plug, talking square biz

Make enough money every day to feed twelve kids

I usually don't ride with the dope, but shit, this sale big

Baby got a big pussy on her, I just fell in

Pick him off with a .50 Cal, this bitch a sniper

Brodie in the cell killing shit 'cause he a lifer

Hit the road with a half a slab rapped in diapers

Every time I'm popping out, lit like a lighter

Hm, I used to feel left out, but I wasn't turnt enough

Hm, money ain't gon' change your life until you earn enough

Hm, the first time I tried to cook, a **** burnt it up

Hm, you ain't never took a loss, you can't learn from nothing

Hm, money is not everything, you can't change me

Hm, tell me who the fuck it is, if it ain't me

Hm, I don't hear the shit you saying, so I can't see

Hm, I live my life in 4K, you still in HD

Police in my neighborhood, hate I fleed twice

Get off the field, crash a **** like Rashee Rice

She wanna be my bitch, I'ma give her three nights

These 'bows free, ****, I don't know no weed price

Looking at his phone, **** finna lie

FN on a **** mean a **** finna die

Chocolate face presi' looking like some chilly fries

I ain't even up this .50, bitch, I'm being civilized

Bitch pussy blew out, I done hit her 50 times

And she know that I'm the truth, but I lied 50 times

Bring it to your motherfucking door, Jimmy Johns

Laid back, but I can get this shit popping anytime

Hey, and they'll never get a trace, this a ghost Glock

Hit a bitch, then cut her off, leave the ho blocked

Walk in, cameras everywhere, this a dope spot

Rumor is doggy fell off, shit, I hope not

Hm, I hope you don't think I will 'cause I won't stop

Hm, I hate when **** ask for prices and they don't cop

Hm, you can't slide in my hood, I got the road blocked

Hm, I gotta touch it, you can't tell me that the stove hot

Hm, I don't rap like no ****, I got my own style

Hm, I used to have to pick shit up , it's gettin' drove now

Hm, my face card might be good for some 'bows now

I might be him, but I'd rather chill and keep a low profile (Ayy)

He got a real diamond link, but the piece fake

**** spraying all the 'bows, hate the weed game

I ball hard, dope stretching like it's pregame

I was sleep, selling LB's in my PJ's

I put a million blue pills on the freeway

Play the opps, I put ten on the DJ

**** going bankrupt, that don't seem safe

She wanna fuck me, get up out that freak face

Baglife