(The CoalCash Collection)

'Cause I like extra, hmm

Hmm, hmm, uh, uh, mhm (Ayo, Cash, I think we got one)

I say I usually don't do simple, huh, huh, 'cause I like extra, huh

I can afford expensive, huh, huh, without me stressin', huh

Hundred thousand on my wrist, huh, don't even add the bracelet, huh

I can get back to basics, huh, Foamposite, Greyhound station, huh

Cardboard box with the glass pints, I'm hurt they still don't make 'em, huh

Can't nothin' replace that taste of 'em, huh

I miss the real Act', I can't sip bacon, huh, huh

Can't drink close, huh, huh, that's a nope, huh, huh

I got rose on my neck, that's a rope, mm, uh

It ain't no noose, huh, huh, cut me loose

Off that juice, I'll go— hah, huh, I'll get brazy (Huh)

Can't no **** 'round me with no strap, huh, be lazy

That'll cost a **** his life, that'll cost a **** his baby, huh

Hmm, I got that one bread, that shit you don't bring out the house

I done damn near died off my drugs, got to passin' out

Your bitch gon' bring me back to life, she CPR me, mouth to mouth

I was fucked up not too long ago, huh, livin' couch to couch (Crank)

Here we go, now I'm fuckin' centerfolds

I done smoked plenty 'bows, me and my brothers

They know what we in it for, I'll let the semi go

I'll get a **** gone, play with my brothers

That shit ain't nothin', we been thuggin', red bandana on, big bloody

I say your bitch gon' fuck me, she gon' suck it if that pussy fuck around, be bloody

Just bought a new bhop that hold a hundred

I used to chop blocks in the dungeon

AR, robot Gundam

With a foreign bitch on my way to London

Trap, trap, overseas crunchin'

None of my old straps rusty

My first .38 still function

What's your conjuction-junction?

Percocets got a **** boxin'

Said them Yercocets in this bitch bouncin'

**** test me, I'ma flunk him

All apes with me, no flunkies

Big drugs, big guns, big unky

His girl eatin' up her one-piece

She stuffin' my pills, then hump me

You a lame-ass shooter, Kris Humphries

Bet my last dollar a **** won't touch me

All in the club, bet a **** won't bump me

In another **** hood, bet a **** won't come see me

In another **** hood, make his baby mama bome bee me

I was an underground king way before I met Bun B

And I sip more drank than Pimp C, I do, huh

No cap, no kizzy, I'll hit the uh with the rizzy, huh

Pour my pop, it's fizzy, huh

Sip that Wock', get busy, huh

Ain't no bitch gon' spin me, uh

See me, like, "Who is he?" Uh

Hit her leave her dizzy, huh

Yeah, she got spinned, opps and bullets, that's wherever I been

**** can't shake my hand, we ain't locked in

**** ain't shook my hand, he ain't Big Squad

Can't be Big Squad, get your bitch robbed

Matter fact, **** ain't gang, he ain't been around me, don't know my new nicknames

Huh, matter fact, **** ain't gang, he ain't been around me, don't know my new nicknames

But you want me to help you, you, and what's-his-name

You ain't do shit when them **** hit a big stain

You ain't help me elevate my wrist game

You ain't want the hard out, you just want the big fame

That ain't how it go when you playin' it this way

Been real, I'ma stay real, ain't shit fake

I don't give a fuck 'bout you postin' my mixtape

I can't call you if my rent late

If you don't pull up to no shows, studios, or hit the road

Huh, that type of time you fuckin' with different, ain't what I'm on

Speakin' of what I'm on, this bodeine I just dropped my cure for colds

Ayy, I just dropped a four, me and bro-bro, you ain't no ape, then you can't do that

Serve big white boy, Ivica Zubac

Hollow hit his ear, screwback

Put his soul where his roof at

My flag up, where the whoop at?

Open up a can of whoop-ass

Extra bands in the bookbag

Fuck a ho 'cause she look sad

Huh, whip the baby, ain't the good dad

Hmm, duh