Fuccitdoe
I'm stupid high
My bucket low
I'm ridin' faded
Like fuccitdoe
Got a main bitch
And a bunch of hoes
And I bu-bu-bust
This .40 through your fuckin clothes
Bang bang, at your forehead
We chain gangin', take your bread
Take your bitch, outta Morehouse
Like "nah, nah, I need more head"
I met my connect for them shipments in quarters
I'm better with this flow than niggas from Georgia
My money long as the fence at the border
And speaking of which, I just picked up an order
Drive through, and my ride new
I'm Porzingis, you 5'2
I do my crew, like on Three Strikes
Keep arms at they muhfuckin' sides, true
My fly shoes got me fuckin' yo mother
All of my niggas get money, we brothers
Made a few calls, got the drugs and the numbers
And now all my plugs getting plugged with eachother
Your main bitch say she love you, and stutter
Try to rob me, yous a dumb muthafucka
Really wanna rap like Kendrick Lamar
But niggas just wanna hear ignorant bars
Armani, True Religion. Pharaoh piece, no crucifixes
Eight deuce trey, 'cause I'm used to Crippin'
But a lot of my niggas Piru and sixes
AnyCityGang, we don't do division
Just multiply green, plus new addition
No Bobby Brown, all hollow rounds
Chopped up in a lobby where your body found
We draped up, and we dripped out
I got Blood shooters, and Crip clout
So keep me, up out of yours, nigga
But I'm cool being up in your bitch mouth
I'm stupid high
My bucket low
I'm ridin' faded
Like fuccitdoe
Got a main bitch
And a bunch of hoes
And I bu-bu-bust
This .40 through your fuckin clothes
I be in orbit. Higher than Jordan
Diamonds imported. Now I live Morgan
Finally a Free man, you informant
You talking to the pigs, Do little, and live Norbit
Two twin SIGs, and both of them shits gorgeous
Fuck a flesh wound, I'm hoping to hit organs
First class ticket, you going to where the Lord is
And fuck getting lawyers, nigga I'm Clint' Portis
Of course it's the God, I floss and spit flawless
Charms in the cross will cost your thick coffin
And that's a fortune of green new bills
Just 'cause you getting money? That don't mean you real
My C's hawk and beat him, no green/blue field
When I make your Sis go, I don't mean Dru Hill
I'm 'bout to kill the game, get a sweet new deal
Still gettin' to this cheese like I'm Meek, do mils
Nigga
My bucket low
I'm ridin' faded
Like fuccitdoe
Got a main bitch
And a bunch of hoes
And I bu-bu-bust
This .40 through your fuckin clothes
Bang bang, at your forehead
We chain gangin', take your bread
Take your bitch, outta Morehouse
Like "nah, nah, I need more head"
I met my connect for them shipments in quarters
I'm better with this flow than niggas from Georgia
My money long as the fence at the border
And speaking of which, I just picked up an order
Drive through, and my ride new
I'm Porzingis, you 5'2
I do my crew, like on Three Strikes
Keep arms at they muhfuckin' sides, true
My fly shoes got me fuckin' yo mother
All of my niggas get money, we brothers
Made a few calls, got the drugs and the numbers
And now all my plugs getting plugged with eachother
Your main bitch say she love you, and stutter
Try to rob me, yous a dumb muthafucka
Really wanna rap like Kendrick Lamar
But niggas just wanna hear ignorant bars
Armani, True Religion. Pharaoh piece, no crucifixes
Eight deuce trey, 'cause I'm used to Crippin'
But a lot of my niggas Piru and sixes
AnyCityGang, we don't do division
Just multiply green, plus new addition
No Bobby Brown, all hollow rounds
Chopped up in a lobby where your body found
We draped up, and we dripped out
I got Blood shooters, and Crip clout
So keep me, up out of yours, nigga
But I'm cool being up in your bitch mouth
I'm stupid high
My bucket low
I'm ridin' faded
Like fuccitdoe
Got a main bitch
And a bunch of hoes
And I bu-bu-bust
This .40 through your fuckin clothes
I be in orbit. Higher than Jordan
Diamonds imported. Now I live Morgan
Finally a Free man, you informant
You talking to the pigs, Do little, and live Norbit
Two twin SIGs, and both of them shits gorgeous
Fuck a flesh wound, I'm hoping to hit organs
First class ticket, you going to where the Lord is
And fuck getting lawyers, nigga I'm Clint' Portis
Of course it's the God, I floss and spit flawless
Charms in the cross will cost your thick coffin
And that's a fortune of green new bills
Just 'cause you getting money? That don't mean you real
My C's hawk and beat him, no green/blue field
When I make your Sis go, I don't mean Dru Hill
I'm 'bout to kill the game, get a sweet new deal
Still gettin' to this cheese like I'm Meek, do mils
Nigga
Credits
Writer(s): Paul Hagan
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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