The Sit Down (feat. Babyface Ray)

Gang time nigga Ayy, it ain't shit to talk about Cashed out on it I ain't have to walk it down I got money on deck I ain't gotta call around I be fleeing from them Bitches 'fore I ever toss it out You tryna turn your body to a faucet, huh? Tell them labels don't come petty I come from the block Nigga you ain't got no paper You your fucking opp Told lil' baby weigh her options You gon' fuck or not? Yeah, this shit hanging out my pocket Got it from the opps Went and cleaned them niggas out Just bought another mop If he up that stick then we gon' cut him down Gotta go re-up again 'cause I keep running out Yeah, these niggas rap cap Hit him in his head and Knock his hat backwards I just bought a Cuban cost a scat package I can't argue with no nigga Ain't in my tax bracket We can argue about the prices I'ma still tax you Still calling plays like I'm Phil Jackson Yeah that Palm Angels fit me like a Nike Tech Cut into a bad bitch Like tell me what's the price for that I wouldn't call it cheating 'cause she wrote me, i ain't write her back Said she wanna fuck me 'cause I like to flex Hit 'em with that roaster 'cause I like to stretch We gon' wipe that nigga nose 'cause he look like he sick nigga It's forty on my wrist, match my waist Thirty in that big mac, I'm safe These blue strips on that Drac' Twenty on a lawyer, fuck my case Twenty on me that I just made I ain't even gotta touch my bank