Lyrics
I tell em' da bitch ride da
Dick like a new Honda
Wit da cops behind her im kinda
Sorta watcha calla'
Superstar now some on tryin
Fuck some superstars mouth
Straight up and the guns come wit the money
And the work come with the luggage fuck it
These niggas talking big wit a rapper budget
I get paid off rappers buddy
And I ain't fuckin wit da rat pack
I pull up as any day wit some tap tap
And that's that
Im the wildest from the the wolfpack
Back back u ain't notin but a snack pack
And when u runnin don't look back
Cuz im be coming out dat back pack clap clap
And rrrat rrrat yaa young weeza
Money over bitches
Reporting to u motherfuckers live
From da kitchen
Hahaha a man wayne dey gone be mad at this
I mean see niggas already hate u
And hate what u do
Niggas already hate me and hate what I do
Them niggas gotta hate wat we do
CLS Five hundred AMG kit
Know the haters be sick when I drive through
Ride through two miles an hour
So everybody sees me
Bumpin that Carter 2 my nigga weezy whoo
F baby f U Pay me
I hustle… cops come I tell em F U Jay see
Catch me if you can Im the gingerbread man
In the V8 all white sedan im too cool
Inside butter yea tan in da seat
Same color as da sand in da beach
Im too cool and my money come in boot coozoo
So screw u broke dudes who hate
Me cuz im too cool
And u kno I keep da piece on me
My gun speaks it own language
Like E-40 see shorty
Da piece pop ya your scream poppa
Too late your brains already beachcabla
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Lyrics © TUNECORE INC
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