12.08.2013
128
Rap
Tekst piosenki
[Verse 1: Kool John]
My chains dancing like Chris Brown
You talking money, I'mma get down
We got the whole party shaking like a mad cow
On the grind money long like a beach towel
I hit the club get the money then I creep out, my $hmop steez bout
Bringing freaks out, grown freaks red [?] with they cheeks out
Like Kraft, I'm all about my cheese
[Verse 2: ]
All rise, the kings talking
This here be a real nigga theme song
Make way we about to put the team on
Beat the game like a nigga got the cheat codes
Yeah started from the bottom, headed to a milli
She ride it like a bike, I made her pop a wheelie
Niggas hella mad cause' I'm popping in they city and I'm all about the money from the nitty to the gritty
[Hook]
Ooohh this my shit right here
I don't think ya'll know, I don't think ya'll know
Ya'll don't got no idea, ah ah
Ooohh this my shit right here
I don't think ya'll know, I don't think ya'll know
Ya'll don't got no idea
[Verse 3: Sage The Gemini]
Uhhhh
One time for the bitch nigga that took a shot but got drunk before the point was across
Unh, talking shit from a distance and all
I reach you my niggas ain't [?]
Unh, nice try no more nice guy when I was getting married to the game you was rice guy
No guns stiff right make em' night night
I get you girl wetter than the San Fran high tide
[Verse 4: ]
I be toppin a bottle bottle
Get top my model model
Get money I do I do
I do it all for arrival
I get more money than lucky
That's 2Pac, that's all show money in that shoe box
I got an A Town dame calling her [?]
Fans listen to me and fix they hand salute me
The game introduce me
The game gon' recruit me
I ran through her two piece
Tell em' bring it too deep and turn into a movie
[Hook]
[Verse 5: ]
I go off like a pistol
You can get your issue
I ain't Too $hort but you can blow me like a whistle
Bout' more than 5 dollars, don't even give me a nickle
I get straight to it man I did it like a pitbull
Plain and simple get it popping like a pimple have her slobbing out the mouth like she got hit in the temple
It's real, it's real, It's really really real
Come holler at me later put the flavor in your ear
[Verse 6: ]
It's back to the facts it is the master of rap
I made a fax to the past and now my flannel is wrap
Yo where's the camera at? I got her cheesin'
She threw it back Hennessy black and now she heaving
This that full moon flow cause' I show my ass on it wait
Black scale hoodie but it's not mass on it passionate
And my paper shine like it's laminate and my clothes from Chaboya, call it halibut
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