Uberr

Red lean look like Cliford
Cbass, bitch
Akachi on the beat, lil bitch (Aye!)

Up in the mornin', I roll me a blunt
It's only 7 AM and I'm thinkin' 'bout money, you thinkin' 'bout stuff
Sleep at your crib, boy you broke as a buck
I'm thinkin' 'bout flyin' out
I'll go to Miami just spyin' out
You thinkin' bout how to get high now
I'm thinkin' I'll maybe retire now

You can't even purchase a 10 sack
I smoke with my plug in the Benz back
I post in my lab, it's my hideout
Got twenty locations and ten stacks
Look, I swear my car got accessories
Wrist comin' out, lookin' sexy
Call out the plays like a referee
There ain't too many that mess with me
Circle so small, I need motherfuckin' less of me
Uh, look, uh



Credits
Writer(s): Joey Trap
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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