Big Bad Wolf (feat. YG)
(Ron-Ron go run it up-run it up)
Uh
Mister big bad Wolf
Go and blow that shit
If you got it, then you got it
Gotta show that shit
Tell me touch it with the money
How to throw that shit
Throw that shit, throw that shit
Throw that sh-
Mister big bad Wolf, go and blow that shit
If you got it, then you got it
Gotta show that shit
Tell me touch it with the money, how to throw that shit
If that's yo' lil' baby, gotta mow the bitch, ay
Big cuts of that juice, nigga pour that shit
Big blunts in the wood, on police shit
If it ain't hundred bands, you ain't showing shit
I just flipped hundred grams, all I know is this (ay)
Got the choppa before the oppas, they go blocka-blocka
Hollow tips shit, turn you into a pop-locker
Me and OhGeesy link, it's a head knocker
Everybody eat, It's a Benihana
I call the goonies, I don't point heaters
Pointers on my neck, I don't point fingers
Niggas paying eight hundred for some sneakers
I'm paying eight hundred for the scope with the nina
Still sippin' drank, R.I.P that nigga yams
YG four hundred I just flipped a hundred grams
Baby mama, she be trippin' 'cause they wanna fuck her mans
At the show, I'll be showing out so nigga watch your hands
In the club turnt up in a VIP session
Ain't no glicks in the whip, boy they in my presence
And the bitch hair like some Herbal Essences
I don't argue with a bitch, I give her verbal lessons
Mister big bad Wolf, go and blow that shit
If you got it, then you got it
Gotta show that shit
Tell me touch it with the money, how to throw that shit
If that's yo' lil' baby, gotta mow the bitch, ay
Big cuts of that juice, nigga pour that shit
Big blunts in the wood, on police shit
If it ain't hundred bands, you ain't showing shit
I just flipped hundred grams, all I know is this
I like my Glock nine like my fucking Llama (bow)
All these bitches they be jealous of my kid mama (yeah)
All she do is cook, clean and she count commas (hey)
Mercedes Benz, she won't ride in your fucking Honda (skrrt)
I don't got a back-wood, I'm finna roll a Grabba (ay)
Four hundred degrees like a fucking sauna
I don't got a back-wood, I'm finna roll a Grabba
Four hundred degrees like a fucking sauna
Rich nigga, boy you know I got rich habits
Silly bitch, do tricks like a lil' rabbit
304s on go, they be real savage
Fuck a nigga like me, get that real cabbage
Mister big bad Wolf, go and blow that shit
If you got it, then you got it
Gotta show that shit
Tell me touch it with the money, how to throw that shit
If that's yo' lil' baby, gotta mow the bitch, ay
Big cuts of that juice, nigga pour that shit
Big blunts in the wood, on police shit
If it ain't hundred bands, you ain't showing shit
I just flipped hundred grams, all I know is this
Mister big bad Wolf, go and blow that shit
If you got it, then you got it
Gotta show that shit
Tell me touch it with the money, how to throw that shit
If that's yo' lil' baby, gotta mow the bitch, ay
Big cuts of that juice, nigga pour that shit
Big blunts in the wood, on police shit
If it ain't hundred bands, you ain't showing shit
I just flipped hundred grams, all I know is this
Mister big bad Wolf, go and blow that shit
If you got it, then you got it
Gotta show that shit
Tell me touch it with the money
How to throw that shit
Throw that shit, throw that shit
Throw that sh-
Uh
Mister big bad Wolf
Go and blow that shit
If you got it, then you got it
Gotta show that shit
Tell me touch it with the money
How to throw that shit
Throw that shit, throw that shit
Throw that sh-
Mister big bad Wolf, go and blow that shit
If you got it, then you got it
Gotta show that shit
Tell me touch it with the money, how to throw that shit
If that's yo' lil' baby, gotta mow the bitch, ay
Big cuts of that juice, nigga pour that shit
Big blunts in the wood, on police shit
If it ain't hundred bands, you ain't showing shit
I just flipped hundred grams, all I know is this (ay)
Got the choppa before the oppas, they go blocka-blocka
Hollow tips shit, turn you into a pop-locker
Me and OhGeesy link, it's a head knocker
Everybody eat, It's a Benihana
I call the goonies, I don't point heaters
Pointers on my neck, I don't point fingers
Niggas paying eight hundred for some sneakers
I'm paying eight hundred for the scope with the nina
Still sippin' drank, R.I.P that nigga yams
YG four hundred I just flipped a hundred grams
Baby mama, she be trippin' 'cause they wanna fuck her mans
At the show, I'll be showing out so nigga watch your hands
In the club turnt up in a VIP session
Ain't no glicks in the whip, boy they in my presence
And the bitch hair like some Herbal Essences
I don't argue with a bitch, I give her verbal lessons
Mister big bad Wolf, go and blow that shit
If you got it, then you got it
Gotta show that shit
Tell me touch it with the money, how to throw that shit
If that's yo' lil' baby, gotta mow the bitch, ay
Big cuts of that juice, nigga pour that shit
Big blunts in the wood, on police shit
If it ain't hundred bands, you ain't showing shit
I just flipped hundred grams, all I know is this
I like my Glock nine like my fucking Llama (bow)
All these bitches they be jealous of my kid mama (yeah)
All she do is cook, clean and she count commas (hey)
Mercedes Benz, she won't ride in your fucking Honda (skrrt)
I don't got a back-wood, I'm finna roll a Grabba (ay)
Four hundred degrees like a fucking sauna
I don't got a back-wood, I'm finna roll a Grabba
Four hundred degrees like a fucking sauna
Rich nigga, boy you know I got rich habits
Silly bitch, do tricks like a lil' rabbit
304s on go, they be real savage
Fuck a nigga like me, get that real cabbage
Mister big bad Wolf, go and blow that shit
If you got it, then you got it
Gotta show that shit
Tell me touch it with the money, how to throw that shit
If that's yo' lil' baby, gotta mow the bitch, ay
Big cuts of that juice, nigga pour that shit
Big blunts in the wood, on police shit
If it ain't hundred bands, you ain't showing shit
I just flipped hundred grams, all I know is this
Mister big bad Wolf, go and blow that shit
If you got it, then you got it
Gotta show that shit
Tell me touch it with the money, how to throw that shit
If that's yo' lil' baby, gotta mow the bitch, ay
Big cuts of that juice, nigga pour that shit
Big blunts in the wood, on police shit
If it ain't hundred bands, you ain't showing shit
I just flipped hundred grams, all I know is this
Mister big bad Wolf, go and blow that shit
If you got it, then you got it
Gotta show that shit
Tell me touch it with the money
How to throw that shit
Throw that shit, throw that shit
Throw that sh-
Credits
Writer(s): Keenon Daquan Ray Jackson, Laron Robinson, Alejandro Carranza
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.