Στίχοι

(Oh-oh-oh) oh-wee (Oh-oh-oh) Y'all already know what type of shit I'm on (oh-oh-oh) Splash (oh-oh-oh) Fuck the motherfuckin' nonsense Smack a nigga with a palmed fist Knock his iPhone out his hand Drop a sunkist, I'm on mix Wock and red This a Glock 40 on me but it's a nine in the head It shoot both of 'em I be having modified guns Transform something, Decepticon Every day, I'm walkin' with a weapon on Steppin' on Louis, Gooey, whatever that is TSF business, Sauce Walka, been that kid, that did Made a couple million off of that bitch What's her name? Don't matter, nigga motherfuck the fame My bitch not Rihanna but these platinum dollars Put her on a billboard, she'll solve all your problems Bitch a Genie and you was just a Weenie Maybach truck, '21, is how you see me Chrome heart beanie, but I don't got no love Traphouse after close, we ain't got no drugs That's how my chest is Headshot everything in the car Fuck some vests Backflip kick, Marshall Law Off of Tekken, and a weapon Niggas better duck when I step in God here, sitting down at churches staying in God's field, respect nigga It's TSF, 'bout that check nigga I have a crip with a 30 C walk ya neck nigga Walk was two years in the game but still a vet, nigga I done made some broke niggas rich up in the 'jects nigga, real life Tell me what that struggle feel like Streets so cold, popsicles don't wanna feel ice Streets so cold, nigga, life froze from shooting dice Hit 'em with the nitrogen, he never saw his wife again He like to win, but be with losers You wanna play with Tim Duncan or Carlos Boozer? Like a needle, I maneuver through the haystack Gettin' money since way back, since 8-Tracks My momma was breaking tricks for eight racks Seen so many muscle head niggas shot in the eight pack Tryna be Damien won't never lift a weight again Don't shake the pen, and die free Keep thinking that them lil niggas ain't got none from grease A lot of good lives is weak when that piece come out Who really fucking with them wolves when they teeth come out? All this trauma I received, made my beast come out Sauce Walka in any city, then the streets come out On sauce Oh-wee (oh-oh-oh) Oh-wee (oh-oh-oh) Oh-wee (oh-oh-oh) Yeah Oh-oh-oh, uh Four honeybuns in that red Goyard Jewelry one of none, the money come, I'ma go on Never was a bum, the summer come, I'ma show off Only 63 made one of them in my garage (yes) My nigga young and dumb, bipolar, he off his Zoloft He so lost, walk up, head tap, he would stroll off (pum-pum) Menace like I'm A-Wax, sellin' Caine' by the O, Dawg 12 hit the spot, I'm out the window, that's a close call (I'm gon nigga) I make more in a year than your career pay And you don't hear me play them radio airwaves Twin got two straps on him like a pair of Air Rays The 40 seem like oil shank, get your hair sprayed (wo-wo-wo-woo) I'm in this bitch, been getting rich for a long minute Suck me and come up for air, that bitch is long-winded I got a homie in prison doing a long sentence (free my nigga) Called in and said, any beat they put you on, kill it (I got you) Machine ain't mad at you How you pushing to California through Malibu? (They mad) Daytona on the wrist shit, you did the unimaginable (they mad) You did what niggas never fathomed to Sippin' deli at Diddy house when I'm just passin' through (waddup bro) I was just doing what I had to do (I had) I just had to put to work and they think I did somethin' magical (what you think I did?) I'm from a hood, niggas would leave you for your valuables (give me that shit nigga) Machine, bitch (give me that shit)
Writer(s): Bobby Dukes, Bob Massey, Lester Mckenzie, Albert Walker Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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