Lyrics

Shoutout to the homie from the Bay at the afterparty That gave me that kill But I still Fuck with my nigga Smack We smoke spliffs with some 96 Cris Still got it bad for you Thinkin' bout you at least half of the day The other half, you know what they say Kissin' babies, shakin' hands, politickin' Another sneak diss is not what's missin' So I concentrate more on words now Get the ball to me if it's 3rd down I got your back Wonder why rap at a standstill? We ain't dropped in a minute, yep And that is not a coincidence I learned to live with no regrets Your girl lookin' like a 9 My girl lookin' like a Tec She love when I get it wet Peel panties off of her If it's work to do then I'm off of her I got a lot of crosses and pendants Niggas focus on what I make but not what I'm spendin' I'm grinnin' hardly as much as when I was younger Thinkin' they would acknowledge me, I couldn't have been dumber I'd still rap better than you niggas if I was a plumber She said "hit me on the next tour" and shot me the number We leave at 3 AM baby, you know that I want it I'm back So shoutout to the homie from the Bay at the afterparty That gave me that... kill But I still Fuck with my nigga Smack We smoke spliffs with some 96 Cris' With more quotes than that evangelist You from Los Angeles Don't fall in love with the camera! I got homies with so many tats on they face I just laugh, watch 'em shoot craps, rollin' J's Still miss my nigga Phil, po' the drank Real G's don't gossip Don't be tellin' me what you read on Bossip, lil nigga Truth be told, I'm tryna find me Bombed on fools in the 90's Not nowhere near Tookie but don't push me If I squeeze one finger, I'll get her to talk With my hand on my heart, don't step on the chalk It's like the John Wooden book When your Grandma cook Everybody say "I'm gonna get me some" I know brothers that rap bars And brothers that sell hard And the ones that nobody know with 12 cars You will never walk in my house and smell hog Her body lookin' ready to go, a well thought Of course if I call you a bitch I'm a male dog My bills too low for me to fall off! Y'all gonna have to take this ass whopping gracefully Hey Bobby Womack save a place for me, oh yeah Shoutout Shoutout to the homie from the Bay at the afterparty That gave me that. kill But I still Fuck with my nigga Smack We smoke spliffs with some 96 Cris
Writer(s): Jacob Brian Dutton, Dom Kennedy Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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