Lyrics

At the top of the chain I can't fuck wit no drama Side hoes on my left there ain't no baby mama Raw papers rolling blue marijuana Scared that lil bitch she ain't see all this trauma No friction let a muhfucka slide Came searching he ain't like what he find Ran straight for the cops they complied Found the drugs even then I denied Had to gun em down took away his potential Got me a glock but that 9 ain't a rental Graphic fetti money grow exponential I ride with a pole for my life it's essential Pull up with a stick and he to late Old heads get the fuck out the way this the new wave Got bitches out there there's a few saved Shot me some movies 10 deep no blu ray Charmin lil snitches soft beef got it squashed They shining them fake hunnids fuck a cost Cookin' a 40 that heater stay hot Hoes talk like they innit them muhfuckas washed Flashin his dough but he ain't here to stay Couple hunnids couple racks for the day Proud of my heater she out on display I payed out the citrus we smoke minute made Goin 10 for 10 never caught me Tom Cruise wit a choppa we sprayed off the Tommy's Shot in the hotel on the lobby Go on a hunt but they ain't found the body All on my own I can't handout a favor Smokin on gas bitch I'm high off the vapor Round and a half taste the flavor empty the tracer Soften the clip so that rat need a prayer
Writer(s): Chet Blakey Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out