Plan of Attack

I came for the dough, you came for the hoes We ain't on the same thing You got side bitches attracted to bus times You got small noticing planes change She paid me for all the gang that I gave her That's simple and plain Mama, I put you on like some pinkie rings I can put you on, carve you out a lane A avenue to go get paid Big lights on the centre stage Got a duffle bag full of paper Cross the bag sea like a 12 gauge Now I lay it down, lay it down whenever the G's around I set them a pile that's on the ground Then I step off into the town Checking them tracks, collecting my racks And planning the tax wherever you at We'll put them haters on your back Haters'll never get through all that Checking them tracks, collecting my racks And planning the tax wherever you at, nigga We'll be on a vacation And you'll be nervous, hyperventilating My niggas, ain't my niggas They my brothers, never turned my back on 'em King shit, yeah, Machiavelli Sure to the sure, no black on 'em Got a hood bitch who head so good I can't front, I had to double back on her Dope boy, a real dope boy You see Ye track, I spit crack on it Puff that, pass that Even though the doctor say it's bad for me Mama said I'm hard headed Had to take a chance for that cash money Crashed on me, knocked me Hit the plug, guarded me a three piece Smoke ash, straight gas, only strong, Hercules, Hercules Trap star gone getting on a mission Motherfucker waiting for it No fronts, pay up front, cold world Nana say she praying for me Wrist game, sick man, whip game, make that bounce I'm rich, bitch, Rick James For the pain smoke me a ounce Checking them tracks, collecting my racks And planning the tax wherever you at We'll put them haters on your back Haters'll never get through all that Checking them tracks, collecting my racks And planning the tax wherever you at, nigga We'll be on a vacation And you'll be nervous, hyperventilating On a creek, keep quiet Real niggas move in silence All my niggas out here wilin' We in the streets steady mobbin' Super villain, I'm a problem Lil fuck boys don't want no problems Hating on me 'cause a nigga shining Chain got the water, wet diamonds Couldn't get a bag with 'em Now I'm touching bands on my own without 'em All my hoes done got finer Loud packs done got louder Bust up like scarface First you get the money then the power Making racks every hour Real nigga, never been a coward I got the juice like Bishop Call my haters up if there's a issue Ain't shit for me to push up on you Set check you with the pistol In the kitchen with the cook up Residue on the dishes Garbage bag full of money Counting hundreds up, getting to the riches Checking them tracks, collecting my racks And planning the tax wherever you at We'll put them haters on your back Haters'll never get through all that Checking them tracks, collecting my racks And planning the tax wherever you at, nigga We'll be on a vacation And you'll be nervous, hyperventilating