Lyrics

Uh, I'm flying private through cloud nine
Yeah, if you got a problem, I'm Einstein
Yeah, I'm yawin', I'm so tired of ballin'
Yeah, only selling work to them workaholics

Got guns bigger than you nigga, I don't fuck with new niggas
I blues your bitch ass, hopes somebody give you rhythm
I got animal all in my flow, take your shoes off at the door
Niggas feed these bitch's lies, nigga, don't food poison my ho

Lyrics continue below...

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I buy my drugs for the low, like a coupon on at the store
My niggas like Kanye with that good, my niggas like Lou Rawls with that blow
Niggas sayin' they racked up, don't let that Q-ball leave you broke
I know you want a pat on the back, but then those fools goin' see you choke

I saw yo' bitch, and she said, she tryin' to move on and let go
Boy, I get up in that pussy and hit her with moves you don't even know
Niggas be trippin' over these hos, I done came too far to get close
I've been outchea gettin' bread, and I don't need you all in my loaf

If you stick your neck out there, I'll have my goon's all at your throat
Niggas be lukewarm at the most and when I'm through ballin' I coach
Shout out to my nigga Mac, gettin' his boo on in that Ghost
I'm still coming off the top of the dome, but it be on a tombstone if I wrote it
Tunechi

My kids already rich and they don't even know
These niggas sayin' they playas, they ain't even scored
My bitch rolling my weed, she don't even smoke
Everybody following me, I ain't even Moses, nigga

Uh, my cologne illegal in nine countries
I found a way like it was hiding from me
Yeah, my weed good, my sex better
Bitch, don't text me no long letters
I'm ahead of the game, I need a blowjob
Most of these hos ain't got no job
And these niggas goin' buy 'em everything
You gon' fuck around, and get the ho robbed

I'm ahead of the game, I need a haircut
Used to hug the block, I mean bear hug
And tell them rats the AK go rat-a-tat, like snare drums
I woke up this morning, dick rock hard, dick harder than a armadillo

MLK would be proud of me, 'cause I do this shit for all my niggas
Her mouth, pussy, or asshole, life is full of hard decisions
If she ain't fuckin', she get the boot, let me write this bitch a parking ticket
Ain't got time for love life, all I know is get paid
I'm high like Bonjour, twisted like french braids
I got my own shoes, slime, T, I feel like MJ
I'm working that graveyard shift, man these niggas been dead, uh

I fell asleep in that pussy and I didn't even know
I woke up and acted like I didn't even know her, yeah
Don't fuck with these fuck niggas, you already know us
I'm looking for that loud pack, weedman bring the noise, yeah

Pass that weed to the next nigga, blunt longer than a tongue twista
Hos want this scud missile, I'ma ball, like crystal
Lil Tunchi Li, young sex pistol, new money, no wrinkles
I'm hard-headed, Ocho, dedication Cinco, uh

What up, Five?
Rocko fuck with me!
Yeah!
Future fuck with me!
Yeah!
T, I feel like MJ
I'm working that graveyard shift
Man, these niggas been dead
Five!

Writer(s): Rodney R. Jr. Hill, Nayvadius Wilburn, Cameron Jibril Thomaz, Markus Alandrus Randle

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