Off the Top

Right off the top yea I'm bouta go stupid
Right off the top I don't know how I do it, lil' bitch I'm Big Westside you already knew it
Bitch I'm from Westside you already know it, that choppa my candle I up it and blow it
I do this for Burt so I gotta keep going yea, fuck it I gotta keep rolling

This shit from mud so that mean I don't owe nothing
Want a check then that bitch gotta show something, yea
How you got money don't show nothing, yea
Oh lemme find out you broke huh
Slid on the plug and I grabbed me like 4 of 'em
Copped at 7 and off'd it at 4 something
DA grabbed me, I'm good I don't know nothing
Heard they was homies you know I hit both of 'em
Can't go to sleep I gotta money to make, yea
I count it soon as I wake
P.O don't want me to go outta state
Bitch you know ima outta go state
In the cell like I gotta escape
Get a deal ima hop in a wraith
Nick Gotti I don't hit the brake
Glizzy a put a new hole in ya face
Right at they neck like a bow tie
How you solid you hanging with both sides
Trap money backing me up fuck a co-sign, yea
Fresh off the block nigga O-Line
We go to war we was never no bitches
Turn to Birdie go handle ya business
Any problem my dawg he'll fix it 5300 I'm never gone switch it yea, yea, yea, yea

Right off the top yea I'm bouta go stupid
Right off the top I don't know how I do it, lil' bitch I'm Big Westside you already knew it
Bitch I'm from Westside you already know it, that choppa my candle I up it and blow it
I do this for Burt so I gotta keep going yea, fuck it I gotta keep rolling

And kill everything I'm on this here the evidence
I don't speak to nobody irrelevant
She ain't in school but her head is intelligent
Rock and roll we got all heavy metal shit... BOW
Yea, yea, they sleeping on me no Joey Jihad, yea
Don't make me hop in my bag, yea. Don't make me hop in my bag, yea
Everybody hate on me I'm Chris They just mad they don't do it like this
I might spend 30k on my wrist
I might spend 30k on my bitch
If she bad I might give her the dick then pass her off add that bitch to my assist
Try to slow me up nigga you wish hit after hit let me know when I miss
In the trap tryna count up them rolls, yea
What the fuck wrong with these hoes, yea
Walk outta shine now I'm froze, yea
MDR all on my clothes, yea
Champion like Villanov, yea
We getting wins on the road, yea
I'm never selling my soul
I'll never switch on the bro's

Right off the top yea I'm bouta go stupid
Right off the top I don't know how I do it, lil' bitch I'm Big Westside you already knew it



Credits
Writer(s): William Wingate
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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