Back 2 Back States
Tastic Santana
Bro just hit my line, it's a go
Bro just hit my line, it's a go Back to back, state's fuckin' hoes
Bro in the back, pourin' up a four
I was just wearin' the same clothes
Back to back, days trappin' late
Barely have food on my plate
Momma hit my phone, how you doin'?
I cap like shit great
Momma know she raised a fuckin' thug
Never had to showed all love
Junior died, then I lost the plug
hundred and fifty's, these niggas dubs
From the block, shootin' hoops in the crate
To a stolo, blowin' za to the face
I'm on the run, all these fuckin' cases trap full of wock, all these fuckin' cases
Yeah, keep me movin', I was never complacent
Can't go home, marshals on my ass
No breaks, havin' all gas
Tot the Glock, like a hall pass
392, not him, bitch, I'm Hemi
Amiri jeans, keep 'em cut skinny
My favorite prezzy is the nigga Benji My life crazy, like the movie, belly
Pull up like a old white lady I'm in a Bentley
All white shit on my scale
Hop on a plane with the bags fuck the mail
Skinny nigga, I give a fuck about some weights
Holotips, I got hats on my bullets
So I hope you niggas don't think you're no bullies
Bro just hit my line, it's a go Back to back, state's fuckin' hoes
Bro in the back, pourin' up a four
I was just wearin' the same clothes
Back to back, days trappin' late
Barely have food on my plate
Momma hit my phone, how you doin'?
I cap like shit great
Momma know she raised a fuckin' thug
Never had to showed all love
Junior died, then I lost the plug
hundred and fifty's, these niggas dubs
From the block, shootin' hoops in the crate
To a stolo, blowin' za to the face
I'm on the run, all these fuckin' cases trap full of wock, all these fuckin' cases
Uh, nah, I can't give it up Pull up on a nigga, make him give it up
Nigga, this a stick up
Life hard, shit ain't never been perfect
Yeah, lil' momma, is you worth it?
Bro just hit my line, it's a go
Bro just hit my line, it's a go Back to back, state's fuckin' hoes
Bro in the back, pourin' up a four
I was just wearin' the same clothes
Back to back, days trappin' late
Barely have food on my plate
Momma hit my phone, how you doin'?
I cap like shit great
Momma know she raised a fuckin' thug
Never had to showed all love
Junior died, then I lost the plug
hundred and fifty's, these niggas dubs
From the block, shootin' hoops in the crate
To a stolo, blowin' za to the face
I'm on the run, all these fuckin' cases trap full of wock, all these fuckin' cases
Yeah, keep me movin', I was never complacent
Can't go home, marshals on my ass
No breaks, havin' all gas
Tot the Glock, like a hall pass
392, not him, bitch, I'm Hemi
Amiri jeans, keep 'em cut skinny
My favorite prezzy is the nigga Benji My life crazy, like the movie, belly
Pull up like a old white lady I'm in a Bentley
All white shit on my scale
Hop on a plane with the bags fuck the mail
Skinny nigga, I give a fuck about some weights
Holotips, I got hats on my bullets
So I hope you niggas don't think you're no bullies
Bro just hit my line, it's a go Back to back, state's fuckin' hoes
Bro in the back, pourin' up a four
I was just wearin' the same clothes
Back to back, days trappin' late
Barely have food on my plate
Momma hit my phone, how you doin'?
I cap like shit great
Momma know she raised a fuckin' thug
Never had to showed all love
Junior died, then I lost the plug
hundred and fifty's, these niggas dubs
From the block, shootin' hoops in the crate
To a stolo, blowin' za to the face
I'm on the run, all these fuckin' cases trap full of wock, all these fuckin' cases
Uh, nah, I can't give it up Pull up on a nigga, make him give it up
Nigga, this a stick up
Life hard, shit ain't never been perfect
Yeah, lil' momma, is you worth it?
Credits
Writer(s): Kevin Bailey Bailey
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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