가사
(Damn Zay how you do that shit)
Aye, **** mad that I did that
Trippin for that bitch your **** died and you ain’t slid back
She wanna give me neck, break a check throw that ass back
Bitch I’m Jody Woah I’m cash money where your cash at?
Aye, opps hate a **** like my granddad
Sittin in that cell like “Oh well where that tab at?”
Baby momma sick, eat the dick like a fruit snack
And how we on shit just get a bag witcho mad ass
Bitch
And nerd **** they can’t get to me
Never been a P but I can’t show no bitch no sympathy
Ridin' with my folks if he ain’t tell em fuck a referee
Diamonds on this neck, chained up like it’s slavery
Wasn’t in the field but on the net just where them bitches be
Play your cards right or I’ma deck you with this 50 piece
And when them people ask do your job just don’t mention me
How a **** thuggin on my wrist it ain’t no changing me
Shit
**** gang till they slippin
They wanna be around till a round hit they children
Never into facts you wanna fuss bitch don’t listen
Never in the race I’m just addicted to the chicken, jit
I just hit em with a jumper all I got is cash I ain’t hump her
Hoppin out the white doin numbers in a cat burning rubber
50 in this chop doing numbers, brody ain’t no killer he can’t even keep a thumper
We that type of loner
Bust a **** ass his life over
Slide through my section it ain’t good game over
Hey better watch your mans he done rolled us
Gotta stay consistent with this work **** jokesters
Fuck the slam I gotta keep a blick these **** usin hams
Flexin for that bitch up on the Book? Got a **** Gram
I can’t even fuck the luh hooker where her cousin then?
Hatin on a **** cause I’m humble bitch do your dance
Actin with a slam just jacked 2 gone you shoulda let it cram
I ain’t even fuckin with the homie you shoulda never ran
Brody just caught another case and he can’t let it jam
I ain’t with the shakin hands, walk up and face a man
Aye, said she never been OT I’m for the culture
Let a **** get this job I’ma put him on a poster
Hey Zay this shit knock I need another
Keep blicky when out the field or get thundered
I lost my thugs ain’t been the same, shit dangerous man
Gang taxed it outcho house you got protection man
Aye, **** goofy you would be surprised
Diamonds on his neck without a slap, how is **** live?
Aye, suicidal thoughts he Michael Jackson fly
I can’t hit your wood it ain’t no dope it ain’t gone get me high
Bitch **** stressin with no cake another silly kind
Bad bitch bussin hella dates she choose her typa time
Aye how is that your brother and he testified
I’m True Story like I’m Bris I can’t tell a lie (x2)
1042 fuck your crew dem my typa guys
These **** talk these **** woof these **** duck and hide
.223 came with a blicky or that drummy kind
I ain’t no dummy I’m a baker leave you **** fried
Written by: TLG Dooda
