Letras

KD had called and gave me the word Said this nigga had ten birds, in Augusta for the week From the islands, as soon as K told me this shit, I started smiling 'Cause all I could see was money piling, shit, on top of money Now, can't you come up with the money for the week, and Chesapeake The heat made my nigga take a break If I could catch all 10 of them bitches, and I don't look suspicious I'ma sell the fucking quart for the A.A., ha ha As I told K bye bye, he shot me advice If you gone do it nigga do it nigga, fuck thinking twice This is ya nigga for life, go fight 'em fire for fire Hit my hip when you finish said his calling card expired Hung up the phone, contemplating on who help me do it There's Kia and Jessica and then Rhonda truitt Now Jessica to stupid and Kia lie to much I guess I'll take Rhonda, 'cause Rhonda don't give a fuck But first I got to pump her up, I'm give her what, 10 g's Tell her if she really love me she would do this for me Eternally we'll be together for better or for worse But first we got to take these niggas to the hearse Burst in they shit, get the bricks come back out I'm be waiting in the Chevy, you know I'm ready to take em' out If they front 'cha baby, come on, we make it we rich Come on, shit, Rhonda, my down ass bitch Help me Rhonda, help Help, help me Rhonda, help Help me Rhonda, help Help, help me Rhonda, help Help me Rhonda, help Help me Rhonda, help Help me Rhonda, help Help me Rhonda, help Well, I'm the realist bitch, I'm mo realer than reality Fuck that dumb shit, it take nothing to a casualty FBI be after me, quareter ki in my womanly Coming back from St. Croix, First lady to Pastor Troy Even I'm a Georgia Boy, 'cause boy I'm ready jack All you got to say is where them pussy niggas hangin' at Drop it like a maniac, set it off by myself Fuck them pussy motherfuckers and who ever else Okay baby, you set it off, there will be no more living single I'll be ready to tie the knot after we lick them for them blocks Grab the glock, and shot out the lot, and keep on bustin' Then I'm gone bust in cusin' and leave his punk ass fa' nothing Now what's in store for you is 10 G's That's enough for me, I don't give a fat fuck What's the fucking hold up? About this time I saw a truck, to a familiar K had said them motherfuckers had a truck similiar Passengers are him and her, playing some reggae shit Two a.k.'s, me and my bitch, one false move we gone spit Guess the driver thank he slick, dred head motherfucker Guess he most be know my bitch, Rhonda watch them motherfuckers That owe 'em money, that what, with K.D. and Chesapeake Heard that when he spoke with me and now her folk wanna smoke me If he had the keys all I can do now is wonder But for now me and Rhonda filling 'em up with the thunder Help me Rhonda, help Help me Rhonda, help Help me Rhonda, help Help me Rhonda, help Help me Rhonda, help Help me Rhonda, help Help me Rhonda, help Help me Rhonda, help
Writer(s): Micah Troy, Griffin, Big Toombs, Wright Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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