Republic
Feel like the greatest Ali Muhammad
Ima keep pushing til the weight get larger
And i took out the plug like im using this socket
Walk down mask in the back of the honda
Countin up frankies but know Sinatra
You want smoke nigga we got options
One hit of this gas and she calling me doctor
That boy duck shots like his name Kim Possible
(Walk on the beat, uh, uh)
Feel like a hunter when i got the pump
Sippin on wock baby im not drunk
Bustin blocks call it ty-quan-do
It look like a jail with the buglar bar doors
I remember i would sleep on the floor
Hand to hand, front and back get it sold
We aint takin his chain cause we know it aint gold
You cant hang with the gang cause we know you gon fold
I just wanna see my daughter get old
It was hot summer and i left his ass cold
Im bussin juggs in the rain and the snow
I sold him the cake and he thought it was coke
For that gucci and fendi that boy sold his soul
She aint suckin my dick i aint payin for toes
Try wipe nose and im shootin up homes
Aint using his head ima knock off his dome
Stole this glick so im scratchin it up
Big booty bitch hope she backing it up
Hot ass bitch keep snappin it up
Real nigga i aint chattin it up
Bro said the opps lack too much
You thought she was loyal, she setting you up
Aint puttin in work, get the fuck out the fuck
I just bought her the skirt, now she lifting it up
Bitch we sellin the work we not givig it up
Motorsport with the trunk in the front
Dead opps all i smoke in my blunts
Glock 40 while he squaring it up
Glock 40 let it bite, let it punch
Russian creme let it strike, po' the crush
Knock the head off a opp, man i love that rush
These niggas is bitches, they just wanna be tough
Been biting the swag, they just wanna be us
Get hit wit this mac and his heart turn to dust
On my jugg phone all night
Good dope, ray rice
Ima keep pushing til the weight get larger
And i took out the plug like im using this socket
Walk down mask in the back of the honda
Countin up frankies but know Sinatra
You want smoke nigga we got options
One hit of this gas and she calling me doctor
That boy duck shots like his name Kim Possible
(Walk on the beat, uh, uh)
Feel like a hunter when i got the pump
Sippin on wock baby im not drunk
Bustin blocks call it ty-quan-do
It look like a jail with the buglar bar doors
I remember i would sleep on the floor
Hand to hand, front and back get it sold
We aint takin his chain cause we know it aint gold
You cant hang with the gang cause we know you gon fold
I just wanna see my daughter get old
It was hot summer and i left his ass cold
Im bussin juggs in the rain and the snow
I sold him the cake and he thought it was coke
For that gucci and fendi that boy sold his soul
She aint suckin my dick i aint payin for toes
Try wipe nose and im shootin up homes
Aint using his head ima knock off his dome
Stole this glick so im scratchin it up
Big booty bitch hope she backing it up
Hot ass bitch keep snappin it up
Real nigga i aint chattin it up
Bro said the opps lack too much
You thought she was loyal, she setting you up
Aint puttin in work, get the fuck out the fuck
I just bought her the skirt, now she lifting it up
Bitch we sellin the work we not givig it up
Motorsport with the trunk in the front
Dead opps all i smoke in my blunts
Glock 40 while he squaring it up
Glock 40 let it bite, let it punch
Russian creme let it strike, po' the crush
Knock the head off a opp, man i love that rush
These niggas is bitches, they just wanna be tough
Been biting the swag, they just wanna be us
Get hit wit this mac and his heart turn to dust
On my jugg phone all night
Good dope, ray rice
Credits
Writer(s): Percy Tolson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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