Telephuck
Passion
Rebel, got these pussies tight like kegel
Hello, bitch, give me my Marello
The dude that get to turn that shit into Jello
No box of chocolates, no rose petals
Ghetto, nigga pull strings like Geppetto
Ghetto, nigga toss shots like Carmelo
Heavy metal, success, successful
Look, fuck it money out the asshole
Staring at my life through a kaleidoscope
Ten different me's ya'll don't know how to cope
Damn I need some freaks that don't know how to choke
Release my semen, unleash my demons
Money, hoes, Patrone
God damn, I'm on
Looking back at the projects like I'm glad I'm gone
I left the Cavaliers and never shed a tear
These niggas all scared because the truth is here
I got a bitch named Telephuck
She fuck whoever I tell her fuck
Fat ass with a little gut
Shorty drop that ass like an elephant
You ain't talkin' cash, that's irrelevant
Success can make you strange
Success can wreck your brain
Success can have your best friends saying, "Damn nigga, you changed"
Money is the devil, the root of our lives
Who you think you really know could really be a demon in disguise
Best watch your money
Best watch your friends
The one you least suspect could be the one that do you in
I march through Paradise
Life's a roll of dice
I love her, I hate her, damn this shit ain't right
Um, fuck, I keep her to myself
I'm nuts, it's like I'm cheating with myself
Peeing on myself, drunk, scared of the future
Froze, stone cold staring at Medusa
Whoa, Uzi's blow, get low, stop drop and roll
Fold em up like a taco, shout out my nigga Taco
It all look the same when she arch her butt
She got a fat ass with a little gut
If you ain't talkin cash, baby girl get the stepping
Your boyfriend ain't getting mine, and I ain't finna help him
Yeah I left without a bitch eating Hamburger Helper
And I ain't ever used to leave five hundred on the dresser
You's a miserable ass bitch, and I ain't fin' to let the stress
Keep an AK-47 in case a nigga wanna test me
It's a gift the way I work them words, I guess the Lord done blessed me
Must be fresh because I'm super hood, the police try to arrest me
I got genies on my ass, got some Kool 500's
And these ladies so fine, make a blind man want it
Roll the Zig-Zag 1.5, get junted
Spent 60, 000 dollars on an '89 Ponti
Rebel, got these pussies tight like kegel
Hello, bitch, give me my Marello
The dude that get to turn that shit into Jello
No box of chocolates, no rose petals
Ghetto, nigga pull strings like Geppetto
Ghetto, nigga toss shots like Carmelo
Heavy metal, success, successful
Look, fuck it money out the asshole
Staring at my life through a kaleidoscope
Ten different me's ya'll don't know how to cope
Damn I need some freaks that don't know how to choke
Release my semen, unleash my demons
Money, hoes, Patrone
God damn, I'm on
Looking back at the projects like I'm glad I'm gone
I left the Cavaliers and never shed a tear
These niggas all scared because the truth is here
I got a bitch named Telephuck
She fuck whoever I tell her fuck
Fat ass with a little gut
Shorty drop that ass like an elephant
You ain't talkin' cash, that's irrelevant
Success can make you strange
Success can wreck your brain
Success can have your best friends saying, "Damn nigga, you changed"
Money is the devil, the root of our lives
Who you think you really know could really be a demon in disguise
Best watch your money
Best watch your friends
The one you least suspect could be the one that do you in
I march through Paradise
Life's a roll of dice
I love her, I hate her, damn this shit ain't right
Um, fuck, I keep her to myself
I'm nuts, it's like I'm cheating with myself
Peeing on myself, drunk, scared of the future
Froze, stone cold staring at Medusa
Whoa, Uzi's blow, get low, stop drop and roll
Fold em up like a taco, shout out my nigga Taco
It all look the same when she arch her butt
She got a fat ass with a little gut
If you ain't talkin cash, baby girl get the stepping
Your boyfriend ain't getting mine, and I ain't finna help him
Yeah I left without a bitch eating Hamburger Helper
And I ain't ever used to leave five hundred on the dresser
You's a miserable ass bitch, and I ain't fin' to let the stress
Keep an AK-47 in case a nigga wanna test me
It's a gift the way I work them words, I guess the Lord done blessed me
Must be fresh because I'm super hood, the police try to arrest me
I got genies on my ass, got some Kool 500's
And these ladies so fine, make a blind man want it
Roll the Zig-Zag 1.5, get junted
Spent 60, 000 dollars on an '89 Ponti
Credits
Writer(s): Radric Davis, Jaime Meline, Hugh A Allison
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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