LYRIC

Homie ridin w the heater onem
And he sit-in low cuz he know the people on him
It say 220 it’ll really do it won’t it
Glock 20 on me & I’ll really use it won’t it
You a junkie you ain’t shootin what I’m shootin homie
10millimeter bustin like a uzi don't it
10 CCs pushing through your whatchyacallit
I was 20 boi I was sitting in the county
Hopped out tho and I took up any bounty
Blueberrys little bens Ill take any money
Teal bands mix green and blue hunnits
I had to thank god that he put the priestes on me
I had to thank the devil that he put the leeches on me
Girl keisha says I could really be her Tommy
But this tommy gun kinda come between us don't it
And I got the POWER like it be my season don't I
50 50s im my jeans its killing season
Smart phones make me wanna get a beeper don’t it
Smart ass make me wanna go an * ya don’t it
Big stick like a paddle and I beat ya w it
I don’t need to tune my voice to make your bitch moist
Stretch gunstrong rich ya down the streetchya w it
And I pull-up in a Bruick I don’t need a Royce
Keep the dolce and gabana shit
That’s your girl at Benihana bitch
She call me daddy cuz her stomach hold a thousand kids
My crew split her head like a savior did
I refuse to split bread like the baker did
But I break bread where the famiglia sit
Brother got AIDS so ill shoot you over spit
No dick sucker I was born into this
If I call boi and say I got a tooth missin
It mean my 3 9’s only came to 26 &
Either he can make it up on the next shipment
Or I twist his windpipe like a fuckin chicken
Homie riding w the heater on em
I got 5 p’s don't nobody really wantem
Mix it in w other stuff then I get it goin
And most of y’all boys y'all be so nebraskan
That means your corny you don't know me hoe stop asking
And I had to switch hustles when the market fell
I found a body as a kid i can’t forget the smell
I dont smoke the cigarettes or the marijuana
But I smoke squares tryin sell marijuana
Im the boogeyman and I know your mamma warned ya
Taliban selling tan w a big ass llama
And im Glock grippin
Hangin out the window spittin at the opposition
And your thot missin
Out the window now she hangin oh and she sniffin

“If its a coke drought why your wife coked out butt naked doin lines in the dope house”

You know me I don't play
You ain't a G you a J
Homie riding w the meter on em
That's that big stick for whoever ever really want it
Homie riding w the ruler on him
That's the bench what he use to weigh the units don't it
The last time I gave a woman my ring finger
I was 20 scrapin 20s from my ring finger
Y'all thought I was a L and you ain't believe me
But I got the W when I wear the VVs
I admit most days I be day dreamin
I admit I black out when the bass beatin
Will X a rat out tho 4 the cheese an
Dont log on I am not a social being
And he riding w the heater on him
And he sit-in low cuz he know the people on him
It say 220 it’ll really do it won’t it

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