Rubber Bands

[Hook x2] We don't play about the work and the rubber bands (x3) Fuck with my rubber bands, its a murder man [Verse 1: Project Pat] If its money on the table they get wronged and they gon' die Penitentiary chance to get this cash, I'm wrong but a nigga gon' try Fuck police and them snitches, sons of bitches bullets can fly Choppa bullets [?] baked like chicken pie pie If you real like you say you is, the streets gon' tell it no lie If you phony get fucked like a slut, when dunked kicked out good bye I'm gon' always hustle on the low, so my pockets stay high I got thugs who at them triggers, blow one snap my finger you die Blowing gas straight from Mexico, that's why my brains at the sky Talking about taking something, they good though, Colombian they tie Call me straight up the banana boat, now I'm gon' flood the town Making plays like the Superbowl, each one touchdown [Hook x2] [Verse 2:Juicy J] My fingers tired, from counting fifty Triple bands, only hunnas, I don’t fuck with twenties Unless they young and they hungry for the dick, drugs More dick, another bitch, drugs Fucking 2 bitches with fore gloves Yo nigga lost his bitch I'm walking in on some ball shit Juicy J I talk money, I don't talk shit I wan't it all, I don't care what the cost is I'm so motherfucking fly I should star on Star Trek, and they should bring the show back Let me show niggas how to swag Money talk, I promise I heard your money laugh I ain't got no bones to pick with my past All of the niggas owe me money, dead in the grass Catching my ashes, from the end of my weed smoke Rubber bands, my jewelry nigga, diamonds is my weed man [Hook x2]