Oh Well.
Yea
One more pack of the stickity wax stuff
One more Backwood, I'm feeling it mad rough
Throat hit, throat slit, think you are mad tough?
Let's just see who the ultimate man was
I'm back up with the atlas
Blasting on a sad bitch
Ashing where the grass is
Rollin' up the grass, yuh
Light then attack it
Might just fuck a ratchet
Might just fuck a bad bitch
Depends on the acid
I roll with the windows down
Screamin' fuck shit till my car gets plowed
Bullets start zippin' inside of my whip now
Hoes start trippin' and I gotta calm em down
They don't wanna hear but I locked all the doors
Got cock on a whore
Got rocks on the floor
Got opps on the way so it's time to explore
Bitch it's unlocked now, get out the fuckin' car
Yuh, I just be creepin' again
I just be creepin' again yuh
I just be peepin' your sins
When you think that no one cares, huh
We both know you're going to hell, aye
We both know your shit doesn't sell, aye
We both know you're going to hell, aye
But I am too, oh well
Yuh
I cop the pack
I cop the pack from my homies so I can feel numb, aye
I cop the wax
I cop the wax from my neighbor so I can feel dumb, aye
I do not sip on no rum
Rum-pum-pum lil thot here I come
Dumb dumb dumb lil bitch, I would run
I roll with the posse, take smoke to my lungs
Never am lacking, I don't got no MAC-10
But I got a MacBook, I'm cookin' the crack and
Got backends on backends
You backwards on backwards
Got Backwoods on Backwoods, you don't know the password
Lync Lone rollin' with the knife to his neck
Pipe down killa, roll blunts with respect
I bite down if she turn freak on that dick
I might drown if she keep poppin' that shit and
Uh, I just be creepin' again
I just be creepin' again yuh
I just be peepin' your sins
When you think that no one cares, huh
We both know you're going to hell, aye
We both know your shit doesn't sell, aye
We both know you're going to hell, aye
But I am too, oh well
One more pack of the stickity wax stuff
One more Backwood, I'm feeling it mad rough
Throat hit, throat slit, think you are mad tough?
Let's just see who the ultimate man was
I'm back up with the atlas
Blasting on a sad bitch
Ashing where the grass is
Rollin' up the grass, yuh
Light then attack it
Might just fuck a ratchet
Might just fuck a bad bitch
Depends on the acid
I roll with the windows down
Screamin' fuck shit till my car gets plowed
Bullets start zippin' inside of my whip now
Hoes start trippin' and I gotta calm em down
They don't wanna hear but I locked all the doors
Got cock on a whore
Got rocks on the floor
Got opps on the way so it's time to explore
Bitch it's unlocked now, get out the fuckin' car
Yuh, I just be creepin' again
I just be creepin' again yuh
I just be peepin' your sins
When you think that no one cares, huh
We both know you're going to hell, aye
We both know your shit doesn't sell, aye
We both know you're going to hell, aye
But I am too, oh well
Yuh
I cop the pack
I cop the pack from my homies so I can feel numb, aye
I cop the wax
I cop the wax from my neighbor so I can feel dumb, aye
I do not sip on no rum
Rum-pum-pum lil thot here I come
Dumb dumb dumb lil bitch, I would run
I roll with the posse, take smoke to my lungs
Never am lacking, I don't got no MAC-10
But I got a MacBook, I'm cookin' the crack and
Got backends on backends
You backwards on backwards
Got Backwoods on Backwoods, you don't know the password
Lync Lone rollin' with the knife to his neck
Pipe down killa, roll blunts with respect
I bite down if she turn freak on that dick
I might drown if she keep poppin' that shit and
Uh, I just be creepin' again
I just be creepin' again yuh
I just be peepin' your sins
When you think that no one cares, huh
We both know you're going to hell, aye
We both know your shit doesn't sell, aye
We both know you're going to hell, aye
But I am too, oh well
Credits
Writer(s): Kyle Moran
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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