Lyrics

(Ooh, it's time I said it Sav killed it) Alright, we ready, we rollin' (Bitch) Alright Yeah, waddup, Sav? Alright Eight hundred for my shirt, bitch, I'm fly as hell Hoe, this ain't Gucci Guilty, this YSL Don't think you safe 'cause you just told, you can die in jail I just brought a brand new pair of Andys, finna line myself Niggas talkin' 'bout I'm broke, the chicken fry itself? The world need another me, can I buy myself? Just paid five thousand for another pint, I wanna fight myself Damn, I can't find no codeine, I'm finna bite myself If you don't see me out with Mike, then I'm by myself If bro don't get the job done, I'ma try myself Two racks on me, walkin' through the set, just tryna buy a belt If I don't make it to heaven, I'ma die in hell Greedy nigga, I just asked bro can I buy his sale? So you wanna pay me, like, to go do sales? Alright Nigga told and got out, he should've stayed in jail With this new scale I got, I can weigh a whale Told Mike if he catch another body, I'ma pay his bail Ri', you ain't gotta do that, I can pay myself I just fucked a rap bitch raw, man, I hate myself Popped a Perc' and cut my own lean, damn, I played myself If it wasn't for abortions, I'd have seven kids just to raise myself Shit, my daddy wasn't there, I raised myself And I can show you two hundred k I just made myself Off the drink, dancin' with the Drac', almost grazed myself I just did a hard song with Rio, I paid myself Bitch wasn't tryna give the pussy up, I laid myself (Man, how the fuck I do that?) I fucked myself Pedophile, get off Percocets and try to touch myself Before I let a nigga bust my dome, I'll bust myself One day, I stole money from me, I don't trust myself Before I let my bitch go through my phone, I'll cut myself I don't give a fuck what you got saved, I'm up myself If I catch my girl cheatin', I'ma pop my bitch You can't buy my last Percocet, I'ma pop my shit Damn, my Rollie hard as hell, I'll rob my wrist Before I made a dollar off of rap, I sold rocks with Chris Ri' asked me do I got my strap, don't I got a hip? I just shot like six or seven people, damn, I gotta dip Stomach hurtin' like a motherfucker, think I gotta shit Ironic how the bitch can't suck dick, but got a lot of lip Left MGM with 20 racks, I had a lot of chips Thought he bought some clean dope, hit him with the DJ Drama mix Walked in the bank and tried to cash ten with a lotto slip Pulled on the plug and tried to buy a brick with some counterfeit Can't believe this nigga got a 36, that's my mama wrist
Writer(s): Michael Smith, Damario Horne Mccullough, Daniel Robinson Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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