| Yeah, whoo!
|
| Fam, goon
|
| Oh Twysted
|
| Yeah, uh
|
| Tell 'em I’ll never look back
|
| Got the game in the book bag
|
| Got the streets in a choke hold
|
| We gon' get them bricks by the boat load
|
| Stay down, ten toes, them bricks in, they get sold
|
| We ain’t never goin' back broke
|
| Nigga, fuck a friend where that pack go
|
| You ain’t gotta tell 'em
|
| We ain’t goin' back and forth about a ho
|
| All that hatin' shit, it’s out of control
|
| Never talk to a ho 'bout the bro
|
| Never switch up, never bitch up
|
| Get the picture, I don’t miss her
|
| I don’t love her, I don’t want her
|
| I don’t need her, I never did
|
| Pockets bigger than an elephant
|
| Got the F&N with a felony
|
| Remember they ain’t wanna let him in
|
| Now I’m better than
|
| Percocet with the ten, yeah
|
| Grab my bitch and go in, yeah
|
| Ask her, can I fuck her friend, yeah
|
| That lil pussy gettin' big, yeah
|
| Drop the top then I burnt out
|
| Fuckin' freak hoes got me turn’t out
|
| In the parking lot fuck a parking spot
|
| My shit cost a lot, yeah
|
| My shit cost more than his, yeah
|
| A young nigga with them M’s, wooh
|
| Got more money than my peers
|
| And they been workin' all the years
|
| Tell 'em I’ll never look back
|
| Got the game in the book bag
|
| Got the streets in a choke hold
|
| We gon' get them bricks by the boat load
|
| Stay down, ten toes, them bricks in, they get sold
|
| We ain’t never goin' back broke
|
| Nigga, fuck a friend where that pack go
|
| You ain’t gotta tell 'em
|
| We ain’t goin' back and forth about a ho
|
| All that hatin' shit, it’s out of control
|
| Never talk to a ho 'bout the bro
|
| Never switch up, never bitch up
|
| Get the picture, I don’t miss her
|
| I don’t love her, I don’t want her
|
| I don’t need her, I never did
|
| Die got me stressed
|
| Last nigga try me, he deceased
|
| Two hundred thousand on the piece
|
| So when I die, you can bury it with me
|
| Rap niggas, don’t compare 'em to me
|
| In the trap I was wearin' a key
|
| Baby chopper, hundred rounds to the knees
|
| Greyhound, a hundred pounds of the
|
| Nigga, I was really stuck in the streets
|
| Front line when it come to the beef
|
| You the nigga be promotin' the piece
|
| Hundred I can let of the leash
|
| Ask Gucci, had him on my street
|
| Hit Gucci, twenty thousand on sneak’s
|
| , I’m the king of the east
|
| You catchin' niggas still and bring 'em to me
|
| Rolls Royce, no Wrangler Jeep
|
| Balmains, no regular jeans
|
| Actavis, no regular lean
|
| He text you stay on this D
|
| Private jet, lookin' out at the wings
|
| Broke as fuck, I couldn’t afford me them wings
|
| Now I’m ballin' up here in my team
|
| Stay down, do you know what that mean?
|
| It’s Philthy
|
| Tell 'em I’ll never look back
|
| Got the game in the book bag
|
| Got the streets in a choke hold
|
| We gon' get them bricks by the boat load
|
| Stay down, ten toes, them bricks in, they get sold
|
| We ain’t never goin' back broke
|
| Nigga, fuck a friend where that pack go
|
| You ain’t gotta tell 'em
|
| We ain’t goin' back and forth about a ho
|
| All that hatin' shit, it’s out of control
|
| Never talk to a ho 'bout the bro
|
| Never switch up, never bitch up
|
| Get the picture, I don’t miss her
|
| I don’t love her, I don’t want her
|
| I don’t need her, I never did
|
| All my niggas want the same thing
|
| treat the rap like the dope game
|
| Tell her, Ralo, we like and
|
| We ridin' in, got the frame
|
| Still in the hood, we ain’t gon' change
|
| Op shit, pray to her Lord when I aim
|
| Pop shit, my nigga pull up, bang, bang
|
| this ain’t no joke
|
| Iced out my Cartier frame
|
| Geeked, fucked that lil freak like my main
|
| You better put some respect on my name
|
| Lil bitch when you on it, you ain’t even change
|
| You want the money, you can have the fame
|
| Poppin' champagne with the bust down brain
|
| Shoot that shit up like a game
|
| Young nigga fresh like Novocain
|
| I’m rich and fly like a on a plane
|
| Fifty thousand I do is plan
|
| Flippin and kicking it, it’s a coincidence
|
| That my plug and my bitch is from Spain
|
| She wanna fuck a real nigga, you lame
|
| Pop a perc' I can’t even feel the pain
|
| Got the mud, that lil dirty, the rain
|
| Flex on a new 1017 chain
|
| Tell 'em I’ll never look back
|
| Got the game in the book bag
|
| Got the streets in a choke hold
|
| We gon' get them bricks by the boat load
|
| Stay down, ten toes, them bricks in, they get sold
|
| We ain’t never goin' back broke
|
| Nigga, fuck a friend where that pack go
|
| You ain’t gotta tell 'em
|
| We ain’t goin' back and forth about a ho
|
| All that hatin' shit, it’s out of control
|
| Never talk to a ho 'bout the bro
|
| Never switch up, never bitch up
|
| Get the picture, I don’t miss her
|
| I don’t love her, I don’t want her
|
| I don’t need her, I never did |