Lyrics

My nigga if you ain't coppin' you ain't got no business around the fucking spot Fuck you hangin 'round the trap for? Booking on the interstate I'm bailing with them bricks Cooking with the flour, hit me if you need the fish Bottom of the ninth, choppers loaded, that's the ball game Pussy you a target and I barely ever miss Fuck up out my dope house Fuck up out my dope house Fuck up out my dope house Fuck up out my dope house No degrees but did my thing in culinary Either that or could've hit them courts and hoop Creep up on them with them hammers we gon nail em Keep my pistols smoking like some Campbell soup D.A tried to lock me up for child abuse cause I was whippin' babies In the daycare, and pushed em off the stoop Chopper with the scope, tell them niggas merry Christmas But it won't be Santa Claus niggas sending through your roof Catch a nigga hanging round the trap, he need to buy something I'mma do the chicken dance with Flocka when them pies come Pull up to the dock and park the fee up on the boat Pussy nigga, guarantee less than a key will get you smoked When that money come in, you and some your niggas fall out Hate it when you pull up to the venue with them cars out All my diamonds blue, my jeweler got me on some LOC shit And them killers with me down to shoot, ain't with no ho shit Booking on the interstate I'm bailing with them bricks Cooking with the flour, hit me if you need the fish Bottom of the ninth, choppers loaded, that's the ball game Pussy you a target and I barely ever miss Fuck up out my dope house Fuck up out my dope house Fuck up out my dope house Fuck up out my dope house Yeah, fuck up out my dope house, where them niggas came from [?] Jada, where you think I got the name from Raised round the junkies, where you think I got my game from Soon as the love stop, that's when the pain come We ain't selling bundles either, we just moving big shit Try to disappear with some work, get your wig split You can try to find a vein or you can sniff shit Get it on the arm then I need a little interest Naw you can't live with us, we don't want no visitors People call us drug dealers, I say we distributors Haters gone hate cause we keep making em sick of us Keep making it hot, they gone think about evicting us Booking on the interstate I'm bailing with them bricks Cooking with the flour, hit me if you need the fish Bottom of the ninth, choppers loaded, that's the ball game Pussy you a target and I barely ever miss Fuck up out my dope house Fuck up out my dope house Fuck up out my dope house Fuck up out my dope house
Writer(s): Jason Phillips, Tyler James Bryant, Lionel Du Fon Pickens Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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