Lyrics
Look, aye
Right back, back in this bih bugging out, uh
Runnin down, 100 yards, Hail Mary, Black Jesus
On mamas, I don't need no one to vouch, huh
Two deep, me & ninaaa like Martin & Gina
White beater, red nose, gated house uh,
Picket fence, backyard, dig a ditch, six feet
Undefeated **** - quarters in the couch, uh
Several grams of them fire Taliban dog treats
What you need ****? Pistol on the counter
Organic, Built it from the ground up
Crossfaded, still ain't fucked the count up
Still get lil riled up when a fuck **** come around us
Other than that I'm still cool as round one
Still be moving how I want, still the same ****
Yea, still head hunting, still the one that'll press that red button
Still the same ****, yea still!
See no opponents
Still I wish a **** would
God damn!
Still the first one to pop off
Glock sizzle like pot roast, tried to pop out an got dropped off
Venom, yea the high dose,
Block clicking like '96, I could fry a fish wit my eyes closed
Foreign pack, the wide load
Street money, Big Gato, Hellcat purr, Free Ralo
Gotta get it times four, times up, end of convo
I been hella tired, let the time go
Uh ...
Look...
Done fucked around, broke the rock down wit a blindfold
Beat the pot, hit it with the combo
Tripping off the contact, built for combat, til he John Doe
Uh, yea
Inspired by the Pablos, Capos, El Chapos, Head Honchos
Top Dawgs, in the top class, wit the top gone
IPhone, GPS hit, get you knocked off
Dropped off, ****
Graveyard shifts til it pops off ****
Catalog deeper than a back blocks
**** wanna mad dog, never took it that far ****
Eyes bloodshot like Matt Barnes, pullin up, mask off
I don't do the trash talk ****
I don't even like going back fourth ****, **** mash off
You could take the scraps home witcha
Yea, still chain smoking like a muthafucka, 100 on the petro
30 in my lap like a newborn
26 summers, still walkin wit a Jansport
Lap you **** twice with my boots on
Rolling **** dead homies, wit a lil dark leaf
Send that shit round, **** still thuggin
43rd on 10 **** still buggin
40 **** outside ready kill something
Still catching bodies for the set
Uh
Still catching bodies for the check, give a **** lil rope
Watch em tie it round the neck
Uh
Still the same **** yea, still head hunting
Still the one the OG's call the vet
Yeah!
Still the first one to pop off, still get you knocked off
Still that ****, in the flesh
Yeah!
Same energy, same ****
Nothin changed but the Money, Power, Fame & Respect
Uh
Kicked door, made a lil lane for the lil homies
Barely made it out the game, visions still haunt me...
Camping out, been in the crib got it still on me
No lackin now . this shit get real, couple bills on it
Few hunnit thou, living wild
Nothing hit you like truth my ****
Spaced out, ceiling off the space coup my ****
Only **** that I owe is Jesus my ****
Pistol on the counter
Organic, Built it from the ground up
Crossfaded, still ain't fucked the count up
Still get lil riled up when a fuck **** come around us
Other than that I'm still cool as round one,
Still be moving how I want, still the same ****
Yea, still head hunting, still the one that'll press that red button
Still the same ****, yea still!
See no opponents
Still I wish a **** would
God damn!
Written by: Derek Ward
