212 718

Still on the East Side, glizzy stay tucked by the waist side
But my newest shit matching my waist size, that's a forty or thirty eight
I do real estate, put that boy in place

Slime his ass charge a hundred straight for the eighth
Got me hot, now we all in your fire escape
Need my cash and I came here to confiscate, not negotiate (Padrino)

Nigga take that
Got these LA white bitches in spray tans
Keep it up on my hip like a waist band
I'm so fly do a hit in my ray bans nigga
Lil' snow-bunny bitch got a spray tan
She be shaking that ass, she don't brake dance
She remind me of China and eight grams
Ayo Aye, word what's the game plan

Hold up, we be with all of the static (What happened)
Pussy ass niggas dramatic
We gon' bus at your head, not no legs
This ain't paint, we gon' make him eat lead

I was taught strict to aim for the head
Cut the throats of a snake, now it's dead
Put the fabric on my gloves and legs
Get the paper, ya'll keep all the cred'

She aint fucking, She giving me head
I aint playin with niggas, they feds
Splash on the ups, now they reds
Live it up then I'm countin the deads

Bird niggas pecky for bread
Ya'll starving, ya'll fuck wit' the feds
I'd rather take one to the head
I rather have thoughts of running the streets of New York
Man made monsters skip off a corpse, straight to the courts
Eight meal course ya'll stealing the sauce ya'll already lost

Fuck catch a fade, we gon' pull up put some parts in waves
Split his head, look like a lunch tray
Yeah it's big eight bitch get your shit straight

Yeah just to keep shit straight, we line niggas up with a Swiss-blade
We thinking Swiss Alps on a Wednesday
I fucked all your friends, fuck what they say

Wonder how we survive, we be pushing weight
See the look in my eyes, that's a fat Jay
She got fucked in the ass, made her sit straight
Put a G on your head, on my Green Bay
We be selling the pack on a flat rate
Since we getting money these niggas hate
Just got a new watch, I ain't never late
I'ma see ya'll at war, fuck what Trump say nigga
Run it (Run it)
In the crib just counting these hunnits
I can't fuck with niggas they fronting
Hit that bitch from the back, put my thumb in
Yeah the same niggas hating, they bumming
When I'm aiming that shit I be hunting
See that shit just be booming, It's drumming
My bitch say she hate me, she love it
If you ain't rocking with me man you buggin
Nigga, man you buggin



Credits
Writer(s): Kyle Robinson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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