yeah
ok
i walk up in the club louie-louies with the cherry bottoms
bad bitch on my arm with a halle berry body
you know what i do
i
g-get straight to the moolah
wrist wear frigid and my watch is a franck muller
i'm reppin' young moolah
gudda
i
remember when i used to stuff my paper in my shoe box
now i got two large accounts with money stacks and large amounts
what the fuck you niggas talkin' bout
cause we ain't tryin' talk it out
pistol hangin' out my jeans
it ain't a thing
let's talk it out
let that chopper start to sing and let it ring and then i'm out
yeah
you know what i'm sippin'
purple got me trippin'
scoop your chicken up and let her lick me like a lizard
i'm on south beach chillin' and i'm tryin' to fuck every hottie
get her to the crib and make her fuck everybody
you know the team
it's young money over everybody
in the rap game
so it's fuck everybody
married to the mob
bury you alive
my girl pussy feel like heaven to a god
and i came in this bitch with my niggas
kidnap the baby and the fuckin' babysitter
yeah
i be doin' me
don't give a fuck bout what you doin'
blood gang bitch
big b's
boston bruins
i could do this shit
eyes closed
nothin' to it
bullets fuck your body up
they ain't even tryna view it
i go tough
i go stupid
murk your pussy ass and everyone you in cahoots with
fuck you with a pool stick
make you swallow two dicks
fuckin' right
we ruthless
we done watched too many movies
then smoked too many doobies
murk you out
then deuces
we don't know what truce is
that bullet proof vest so useless
flag red like bruises
shoot ya head with them uzis
i swear
your honor
i ain't a dealer
i'm a user
ya dig
i load up the sig
point it at ya wig
pull over on the highway
throw you off the bridge
we don't give a fuck
and we ain't never did
shit
three words you never hear
let him live
i'm in my own zone
it got me throwed off
i break these bitches down
i break these hoes off
lil tunechi is my name
i got gudda on the tape
public apology
sorry for the wait