गाने

(Sonic) I'm in the studio with killers smoking Cookies And when I'm deep inside that pussy, it get mushy And she got caught with the swipes, I had some rookie Label me a kingpin, feds tryna book me And I need 30 for a show, you try to book me And I be watching for the hoes say they love me And I be watching for the niggas say they love me Say they love me Grew up in the trenches with no leader Balenciagas, not no Reebok She said she want her tummy tucked, I told her detox Walked inside Gucci, spent 200 for these socks They'll stab you in your back, that's a back stab Judge give you 20 years off your background And you can't pay your lawyers 'cause your guys clowns When a nigga play with my gang, that shit man down When your homie on that stand, put your head down You be saying in your head, "Put your hand down" See, the opps be on my dick, I turned them fans now Get the whole hood rich, that's the plan now On a whole lotta gang shit, yeah And a nigga can't change shit, yeah And I ride for who I came with, yeah And I'm dying for who I came with, yeah Whole lotta money, money, money, money, money Whole lotta killers, killers, killers, killers, killers Whole lotta shooters, shooters, shooters, shooters, shooters Whole lotta bitches, bitches, bitches, bitches, bitches (Whole lotta-) You ever got snaked by your day one? I heard them killers on my ass, he ain't say nothing And I was chewing on them Perkys 'til my pain gone And that day that boy got shot, I wish he stayed home This rap shit who'd have thought I'd get paid off it? I remember OG going to the head office And we'd sell our food stamps and get paid off it He tried that dope, and then he turned into a J off it Niggas say they talk behind my back, I say they stay talking Police want me down bad, tried to charge for jaywalking My little homie went outside, let them niggas take from him 'Fore the niggas go outside, I can't put my face on it On a whole lotta gang shit, yeah And a nigga can't change shit, yeah And I ride for who I came with, yeah And I'm dying for who I came with, yeah Whole lotta money, money, money, money, money Whole lotta killers, killers, killers, killers, killers Whole lotta shooters, shooters, shooters, shooters, shooters Whole lotta bitches, bitches, bitches, bitches, bitches (Whole lotta-)
Writer(s): Durk Banks, Eric Anthony Sandoval Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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