DSB2
Ugh yea ugh yea ugh ugh
Ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh
Ugh ugh ugh yea
Off the percocets and wockhardt
Strap on a gun like a rockstar
That nigga be talking shit but he not hard
Smoking on gas and it's top notch
Pole in my hand
Make him dance like hop scotch
Good gas in the trap that's zaza
Me and your hoe connect like wifi
Hit that boy with a stick like fa fa
Me and EJ been running the streets
You say that's your hoe but you ain't even seen
The summer turnt cold got to keep you a heater
Drugs in my body I turnt to a feen
Im gonna hop in a caddy
My hoe gone ride for a nigga like Maggie
She put on my chain got her looking all happy
Smoking on Shawn dead ass he gassy
30 round this choppa gon make alot of sound
Heard we left Shawn dead ass on the ground
Got damn that Shawn pack was loud
I told that lil hoe that she bae
She want to chill with me
Chill with the gang
He thought he could run from the bullets no way
We gon hawk you down
Have you screaming Ricky
Chop with a big ole oh ho oh ho oh ho
Riding round town with a big ole chop
ARP on my waist gon send you to the doctor
We gon send that boy to the heavenly father
My pockets on 10 while your pockets on nada
Pockets on nada
Pockets on nada
Pockets on nada yeah
Ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh
Ugh ugh ugh yea
Off the percocets and wockhardt
Strap on a gun like a rockstar
That nigga be talking shit but he not hard
Smoking on gas and it's top notch
Pole in my hand
Make him dance like hop scotch
Good gas in the trap that's zaza
Me and your hoe connect like wifi
Hit that boy with a stick like fa fa
Me and EJ been running the streets
You say that's your hoe but you ain't even seen
The summer turnt cold got to keep you a heater
Drugs in my body I turnt to a feen
Im gonna hop in a caddy
My hoe gone ride for a nigga like Maggie
She put on my chain got her looking all happy
Smoking on Shawn dead ass he gassy
30 round this choppa gon make alot of sound
Heard we left Shawn dead ass on the ground
Got damn that Shawn pack was loud
I told that lil hoe that she bae
She want to chill with me
Chill with the gang
He thought he could run from the bullets no way
We gon hawk you down
Have you screaming Ricky
Chop with a big ole oh ho oh ho oh ho
Riding round town with a big ole chop
ARP on my waist gon send you to the doctor
We gon send that boy to the heavenly father
My pockets on 10 while your pockets on nada
Pockets on nada
Pockets on nada
Pockets on nada yeah
Credits
Writer(s): Jae Dtb
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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