448 Grams
To Hell with these lil niggas they ain't slappin
We got purp and brown
Its some white around anglo saxon
Nggas talkin bout
What they gone do and how
My head I scratch it
Gotta hunnid round
And I ain't backin down
Know i'ma blast it
Trappin in designer like i'm Escobar
He claim he dealin I can't see it he ain't gotta car
I'm posted with yo bitch in this whip ceiling fulla stars
Necklace fulla voss
I'ma boss
You dyin if you cross
I get the package off and hit the loft start countin pape n shit
I laugh and thank the man that let me wake and get my pockets thick
I'm really lit the reason niggas sick i think its obvious
My tolerance for any sucka shit is nonexistent
Niggas no names
Claim they move thangs but really the help
I keep on swimmin ain't no dorthy lil nigga i'm Michael Phelps
Since its money y'all scared to get don't even trip i'll get it myself
When I touched 50 thou I can't describe the way I felt
Scared money do not make nun
Better keep yo gun
Especially if you stackin and fuck with metric tons
Gotta stay on Ps & Qs
When you on the move
Police like we heard that you that dude
Think you misconstrued
Stacks pape
Shake the jakes
No speeding on freeways
Thats the only way
(Tryna put you boys on game)
I got precautions I can't say cause my phone still bang
Last thing I need is them to get the sauce to lock the gang
Aye look honestly
You know some shit that always fucked with me
How you clueless on gettin money but know all the tea
How the niggas that shot you chillin but its smoke with me
I'm hella lost and so will you niggas so tread lightly
Southwest shit
I got blick
Tell a nigga catch this lick
Glocks & teks extended clips
trunk filled up with bows & bricks
Junky bitch she goin through withdrawals she tryna gobble dick
No thank you love
And please don't touch the fit because it cost some shit
I'm chosen switchin lanes in range roves and
The whip cost about 100 more than what your in
Been hit the road before the talk about some tourin
Since the day I was born my mama knew that i'd be soaring
I'm paranoid laid up with this big bitch like Norbit
Never ran off on the plug thats some
poor shit
You get a sack and run to the gram to record flicks
When you really from that ain't no need to validate shit
We got purp and brown
Its some white around anglo saxon
Nggas talkin bout
What they gone do and how
My head I scratch it
Gotta hunnid round
And I ain't backin down
Know i'ma blast it
Trappin in designer like i'm Escobar
He claim he dealin I can't see it he ain't gotta car
I'm posted with yo bitch in this whip ceiling fulla stars
Necklace fulla voss
I'ma boss
You dyin if you cross
I get the package off and hit the loft start countin pape n shit
I laugh and thank the man that let me wake and get my pockets thick
I'm really lit the reason niggas sick i think its obvious
My tolerance for any sucka shit is nonexistent
Niggas no names
Claim they move thangs but really the help
I keep on swimmin ain't no dorthy lil nigga i'm Michael Phelps
Since its money y'all scared to get don't even trip i'll get it myself
When I touched 50 thou I can't describe the way I felt
Scared money do not make nun
Better keep yo gun
Especially if you stackin and fuck with metric tons
Gotta stay on Ps & Qs
When you on the move
Police like we heard that you that dude
Think you misconstrued
Stacks pape
Shake the jakes
No speeding on freeways
Thats the only way
(Tryna put you boys on game)
I got precautions I can't say cause my phone still bang
Last thing I need is them to get the sauce to lock the gang
Aye look honestly
You know some shit that always fucked with me
How you clueless on gettin money but know all the tea
How the niggas that shot you chillin but its smoke with me
I'm hella lost and so will you niggas so tread lightly
Southwest shit
I got blick
Tell a nigga catch this lick
Glocks & teks extended clips
trunk filled up with bows & bricks
Junky bitch she goin through withdrawals she tryna gobble dick
No thank you love
And please don't touch the fit because it cost some shit
I'm chosen switchin lanes in range roves and
The whip cost about 100 more than what your in
Been hit the road before the talk about some tourin
Since the day I was born my mama knew that i'd be soaring
I'm paranoid laid up with this big bitch like Norbit
Never ran off on the plug thats some
poor shit
You get a sack and run to the gram to record flicks
When you really from that ain't no need to validate shit
Credits
Writer(s): Bre'aire Mcwilliams-hamilton
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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