Free Game

I have to do it, you know what's coming
Give me all good
Yeah free game shit
My cousin on the beat

I'm politicking with these sticks, I ain't tryin' to talk
I had to keep it, Chris Tucker, you know money talks

In the trenches with my thugs, this shit everyday
I'm Mike Tyson, lil' bitch, you know I'm heavyweight
I'm authentic, all facts, no gimmicks
Goofy, we can tell that you really not with it

You know vintage, all in her mouth, like a dentist
Come here arch back, lil' mama, I'm not finished
I came up, you was on uncle ice, pocket watcher
Still big B's, keep that flame like Waka

Nigga threaten me, I'm gon' send him to the doctor
You know, cook a nigga, smoke a blunt, order pasta
Big dog shit, all my niggas is steppers
And I got that dog food, put your ass on the stretcher

Playin' with this money, really got me in my feelings
Oh, we heard he tellin', we ain't doin' no dealings
I jumped off the porch, niggas was watchin' minions
When you broke, bitch, you ain't got no opinion

I was down bad with my dick in my hand
Cut the squares out my circle, executed my plan
Hammer get me out the jam, sendin' bullets like Cam
Smitched on a nigga, now he postin' for the gram

Stuntin' on these hoes like Martin did Pam
Million dollar business went down for a gram
You was fuckin' up the money, I was gettin' that pack in
Den loaf, try me, see if I'm lackin'

When I get that pack in, pussy, I'm taxin'
I said, when I get that pack in, pussy, I'm taxin'
What's happenin'? We gon' beat that ass, Joe Jackson
He was dirty mackin', I was all about that action

I was in the trenches on the ground like a skater
Lil one about business, he just tryin' to get that paper
Tryin' to get high, but you know I got them flavors
The bitch got demons and you still tryin' to save her

Hope out that bitch? Two guns, Tomb Raider
I'ma get that pussy and you know I ain't pay her
Old money, new money, new habits
Feelin' like Meg, bitch, you know that I'm a savage

Way above the average, you know I toe tag it
When I'm in my zone, I be ballin' like a maverick
Spike Lee, I gotta have it
Tell my plugs to the low, I can manage

Niggas stay bragging, you know I had to run it up
Make a bitch sell her soul for a hundred bucks
Like FBG, bitch, you better duck
Fuck the suckers, they be plottin', I was to the bag

Nigga think he hella hard and he a real crash
He wanna be hard and he a real crash
Dummy, I was all about that money
Had to cut her off cause the bitch was actin' funny

I was in the field trappin' till my nose runny
Nigga, I was in the field trappin' till my nose runny



Credits
Writer(s): Shaquille Hurd
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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