17 Wit A 38 (with Chief Keef)

This that dirty stinkin nasty ratchet rowdy shit

Young nigga wit a .38 (young nigga wit a 38)
Young nigga wit a .38 (young nigga wit a 38)
17 with the .38 (17 with the .38)
I was 17 with the .38 (17 with the .38)

I was only 17 when I had that 38
I was trying to prove something
Show em' that I didn't play
If a nigga do me wrong, make him see the pearly gates
Truth is, I ain't shoot shit, it was just for fake
Truth is, I didn't do shit, but I rob white folk
Lure they ass to a place I know
Take they money, take they phone, there it goes
Sell the shit at my school for the low
Stack the money, stack the money, buy shoes
Stack the money, stack the money, buy clothes
Take the penitentiary wrist, all fold
Ed Hardy belts with the rhinestone
Hit the Georgetown (swerve)
I got whores now (swerve)
Polo wasn't Ralph (word)
It's a horse now
Slow down, slow down is what my mama said
She couldn't get that shit through my head
You can't expect me to give respect
When I would fuck bitches on mama bed

Young nigga wit a .38 (young nigga wit a 38)
Young nigga wit a .38 (young nigga wit a 38)
17 with the .38 (17 with the .38)
I was 17 with the .38 (17 with the--)
Sosa baby

I was 17 with a .357
Foot heavy, can't speed the limit
All black ghost rider, I'm creeping in it
Gotta be a real nigga, don't be pretending
If I'm in it, then you know, it got reefa in it
You don't see it nigga? I can re-present it
Took a bitch life, and I'll re-invent it
Can't leave without peeing in it
Pants saggin, but this belt ain't cheap ayy ayy
Got a swiper on me, nuthin' ain't free ayy ayy
Would've bought the shit, but it ain't me ayy ayy
Yeah, you down nigga, but it ain't steep ayy ayy
And it's Humvee, me and the pack
Throwing shells even if you can't catch it
We gon test him even if he can't pass it
I know you sending what we can't pass ayy ayy
Little woadey run the bus
Bust the clit, make it puss
What's in me? It ain't trust
It ain't gang, it ain't fuss
Surf the wave, now it's brush
You ain't got a nice function
Know i'll run it up like she know Fredo in the cut
Enough gears for some years
Leave a bitch with a tear
Leave a bitch for a year
Leave a bitch in a mirror
Send it, you got it, i'on see it as an error
May storm in the club interfering with the weather

Young nigga wit a .38 (young nigga wit a 38)
Young nigga wit a .38 (young nigga wit a 38)
17 with the .38 (17 with the .38)
I was 17 with the .38 (17 with the .38)



Credits
Writer(s): Dan Smith, Keith Cozart, Jordan Walker, Jason Mills
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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