Going Gone
My plan B is to make my plan A work
I won't stop after death I'm coming out the dirt
I'm at they neck like the collar on your button shirt
My flow get niggas more excited than when bitches flirt
I'll prolly end up on an island chilling with my millions
But for now I'm more inspired by how the hustle feels
Hit the spot just to pour it out and get it blowing
Dj play my song, now we got this bitch going
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
She make it clap man, Bitch what's happening
She can make that booty tap dance, on her back man
I can eat it up like pacman or the fat man
If she swallow me like Cherokee or one of pinky friends
And she gotta bring me more checks make'em dividends
I'm going to make that money multiply, watch just how it spends
You can listen to real nigga, baby fuck your friends
Cause you know they ain't going to help your ass when bills coming in
She Let me slide in that pussy like patty cake
And if just peeping on a nigga then you hella late
We out here just rolling on a wood like we about to skate
And this bitch still going, riding on me like some 808s
She said, Rudy what's your sign?
I told her I'm a dollar sign
Born with money on my mind
I do about 20 types of grinds
Play with me or play with mines
stick your ass like porcupines
Warned your ass like caution signs
So fuck you if you cross the line
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
And I don't sound like y'all, cause I don't like that shit
I was raised off UGK 3-6 mafia and 8 ball bitch!
Throw in some lil weezy with some Luda Luva luva
It's going to take some real bars for me to like a muthafucker
You let any hoe sit on you like a bathroom stall
Bruh my dick so boogie it be stuck up all on my balls
And that nigga so rude he always knocking her walls
He hit you in your mouth for talking shit and lock up her jaws, the nigga dawg!
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
I won't stop after death I'm coming out the dirt
I'm at they neck like the collar on your button shirt
My flow get niggas more excited than when bitches flirt
I'll prolly end up on an island chilling with my millions
But for now I'm more inspired by how the hustle feels
Hit the spot just to pour it out and get it blowing
Dj play my song, now we got this bitch going
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
She make it clap man, Bitch what's happening
She can make that booty tap dance, on her back man
I can eat it up like pacman or the fat man
If she swallow me like Cherokee or one of pinky friends
And she gotta bring me more checks make'em dividends
I'm going to make that money multiply, watch just how it spends
You can listen to real nigga, baby fuck your friends
Cause you know they ain't going to help your ass when bills coming in
She Let me slide in that pussy like patty cake
And if just peeping on a nigga then you hella late
We out here just rolling on a wood like we about to skate
And this bitch still going, riding on me like some 808s
She said, Rudy what's your sign?
I told her I'm a dollar sign
Born with money on my mind
I do about 20 types of grinds
Play with me or play with mines
stick your ass like porcupines
Warned your ass like caution signs
So fuck you if you cross the line
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
And I don't sound like y'all, cause I don't like that shit
I was raised off UGK 3-6 mafia and 8 ball bitch!
Throw in some lil weezy with some Luda Luva luva
It's going to take some real bars for me to like a muthafucker
You let any hoe sit on you like a bathroom stall
Bruh my dick so boogie it be stuck up all on my balls
And that nigga so rude he always knocking her walls
He hit you in your mouth for talking shit and lock up her jaws, the nigga dawg!
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
Going, going, going, gone!
Credits
Writer(s): Rudy Marks
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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