Friday Night Smackdown

I would pay a hunnit bands just to be alone
I don't like these niggas and I barely even want these hoes
You be lucky if you get a text from my cell phone
Got these blunt life in scents in my home to get the smell gone

Do a high speed in the fast lane headed home
I don't go to parties with no niggas cuz they dead wrong
Know a nigga wanna see me dead to put they self on
I'mma pull his bitch when I put this Louie belt on

Loner lil nigga
Runnin' around by myself
Think I need an FN
Boutta put an FN on me
Why I'm acting different round you
Cuz I think you said something
Talk behind my back
And then I might commit a felony
I'm good with computers
So I always keep a tec on me
I thank God for every day
I get to talk to all my relatives
Lil nigga what you say
We finna head up to yo residence
I got white hoes wanna suck my dick
Like I'm the president
I hit a bad hoe twice yesterday
Think she was Mexican
Why these niggas in they music videos
With evidence?
Snitchin' on me
That's some shit that I don't recommend
We pull up on em with that power
Like we 50 Cent
I'm trying to get in my bag
To get them Chrome Hearts
A lot of pain in my eyes
I got a cold heart
She only text me after hours
Without clothes on
I'm boutta hit her in the shower
With her clothes off
I thank God when I pray
I cut some hoes off
I seen them snakes in the field
I cut the blade on
I see them niggas sneak dissin
Set the blade low
These hoes gone do anything
When I say so
I know you do anything
For the fame though
She wanna pop a percocet
But I can't fold
I'm high off 14 grams
I feel like Karo
I'm sick of niggas trying to run with my peso
I'm sick of niggas trying torun with my peso
The 4.45 hit that nigga top and its case closed
Boy you know I'm not the one you should be messin wit
I'm at yo crib in suit 007 it
These FN bullets send a nigga straight to heaven bitch
Should've never got the coupe
I keep on revvin' it
Let this choppa preach to you
I'm not no reverend
Balenciaga's on my feet
Watch where you steppin bitch
I don't know if I killed yo mans
Can't recollect that shit
Put some holes in his crib
To push a message in
I got some hoes in my crib
They all Mexican
I'm trying to get a lil quick smoke session in
She don't live in section 8
She live in section 10
I hit the pussy from the back
But I'm the cameraman
We the main players nigga
Y'all some bench warmers
I don't call that shit a coochie
That's a dick warmer
You got a really big booty
Let me feel on it
You should see the way it look
When she sit on it
I know a couple niggas booked
Cuz of felonies
I can't be around them niggas
They might tell on me
I ain't lickin' on that coochie
If it smell funny
If the booty ain't real
Then I don't damn want it
Hoe you can keep that lil pussy
I don't damn want it
I know a nigga up in France
I think his ass wanted
I was speeding past twelve
I think my ass wanted
The cops trying to lock me up
Cuz of marijuana



Credits
Writer(s): Odis Barnett
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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