Get the track, get the trackB.J.Yeah, never let them pussy niggas play mePut that on my baby, four G's on a Maybach truck, it cost two-eightRicher than them niggas that be hatin'Shooters like McGrady in Kentucky with that 50 goin' crazyStick tuck, I let my chain hangRich in gangbang, leave a 50 in this bitch the rain manBustin' *, I don't wear no plain JaneHundred thousand dollar Rollie, Scott Dweller, AP on the same handYou with the opps, that me, you ain't my mansYou movin' like the cops, can't take a chanceThirty thousand in my pantsYeah, dog * in my pocket, where your bands?Hit the show with 30 hitters, I'm with CudiHe up, blick before we landCash it all, you can't take a chanceAll the time, don't wait for *Twenty chains, crazy kid, rich niggaI can't * no basic bitchYou never been no boss, you drinkin' TrishYou never been no shooter, you's a bitchQuake, quake with me, he got stickPut a walkie up and drop a sixIced it in the bitchPut my city on the map, we in the mixI been slimin' * out since the jetCuban cost two bricksWe got all them thirsty hoes takin' picsYou wanna sign me? Yellin' out three milTweakin' in this bitch, it's part of the pillGang them, yellin' out free killYeah, * a record label, we too rich* a word, shows we in the fieldShoot that chopper like I'm skilledI love my lil' bitch cause she realShe want me at my best, but love me at my worst stillI can't let him kill BillI keep three gloves and a stickOne regular, one got a dickOne of them fully with a fifty and a swiftA nigga disses ass, better stay focusedNine days, the real niggas be doin' a lot of hoeshitYeah, you know me, I'm on my zone *My niggas don't spit anusAll you know it when we put it off by squeezingI'm fuckin' demon, them bullets miss meI'm emoAnd I'm bossin' upI got a robber truck on pre-orderFifty-footed Richard Miller, I ain't even seen him quarterI ain't need my twenty-fiveWhere I reside, these niggas die shorterI gotta spend some tasteI'm drinkin' walkout straightTakin' Zaza to the faceI'm poppin' jet and needin' steakThey say they die for me, but really fakin'They ain't wanna help, put on my shoesWhen I come tie my lacesLike John Gotti, beat a thousand casesHe keepin' people straightThey doin' voodoo and hate itI'ma speed my mind every timeI don't care how you take itI keep it real and for thatAll the real niggas embrace meJump off the tour busAnd all the bitches start to chase meWhen all my pockets start spreadin' outBig facesThe cheat, the cheatAin't got me beefin' with my ladyShe pulled up to the ugly cornerJust not tryin' to mace meBK
