On the Block

I ride with 100 or better
Me and my homies like glue stick together
My ice get you sick in any weather
All I do is make a call like Aerosmith we come together
Boy you to little you feather weight
When I hop on this shit all I hear is hate
Boy I ain't no rat we don't curropotate
We run to the door with them sticks in ya face
Be the first one to tell ya I playin
Think shit sweet havin a layin in the sand
All over what another bitch said found out you was just a lil fan well damn
Well fuck that I'm tryin to get ya bitch all on my nutsack
She go for a ride like a bus pass
She all on my back like a rucksack

Boy I remember back when i was out there dreaming of a phantom
Sittin on the block drinking Fanta
If we had to we would take ya bitch for ransom
We ain't Tecca but we'll turn you to a dancer (Yeaaahhh)
Had them bags on us feeling like Santa

I ride for this shit she might be ya wife but I'll put pipe in a bitch
There ain't no cuffing season
Fuck her kick her out I'm one nighting the bitch
Should I bring my ice in this bitch
She say she a dike she look like a chick
So I guess that I'm pipin this bitch
No 2 chains but we start a riot (Yeah OK)
Ya bitch gushin water she say I'm pidiesen
She said can I choke her she like this shit violent
But I beat a bitch like Justina
Fuck ha good she a creama
Red hair fat ass like her last name Valentina

Boy I remember back when i was out there dreaming of a phantom
Sittin on the block drinking Fanta
If we had to we would take ya bitch for ransom
We ain't Tecca but we'll turn you to a dancer (Yeaaahhh)
Had them bags on us feeling like Santa

Bitch I'm conceited
Imma hit man don't try or you'll see it
Have you runnin down the block screaming
Listen to Jeezy he told y'all, y'all better believe it
I Walk in with sticks in the party
He told me not to but I don't trust shit regardless
You pussies be sweet smarties
Tag team ya chick hardy
Then we be at ya door sticks drawn out
Like we delivering dominoes I'm jumpin off Geronimo
She hype off this dick like a line a coke
They think I'm broke cause I don't be flossin
On the gram and all on my videos
But my moves swift and silent I'm on yo hip like guidance
And the stick on my hip is silenced

Boy I remember back when i was out there dreaming of a phantom
Sittin on the block drinking Fanta
If we had to we would take ya bitch for ransom
We ain't Tecca but we'll turn you to a dancer (Yeaaahhh)
Had them bags on us feeling like Santa



Credits
Writer(s): Matthew Tyciak
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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