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Yeah, yeah, Wax I just talked her into trusting me again, fuck it up Let a 'op go with his bitch riding in that Benz, fuck it up Fuck this taste, I'd like to pull out twenty bands, fuck it up Drop it low, now shake it standing on your hands, fuck it up Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it up Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it up Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it up Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it up People used to say that rap shit ain't gon' get you far I'ma keep the killers fed, that funky bitch can starve Empty shells and backwood roaches, them's my business cards Took a gulp on accident, woah, that shit hit me hard Fuck a room, come top me off in this [?] booth She said she wanna be my bitch, I said of course you do Had a shoot out in the B and had to torch it new [?] I ain't get to count the foreign, boom Trapping, drop a hundred rounds off in their cul-de-sac Your bitch wrote me in the pin, I never wrote her back This shit ain't no mid pack, we smoking golden grahams Had a op bitch bust it open on my only fans I just talked her into trusting me again, fuck it up Let a 'op go with his bitch riding in that Benz, fuck it up SongtexteFuck this taste, I'd like to pull out twenty bands, fuck it up Drop it low, now shake it standing on your hands, fuck it up Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it up Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it up Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it up Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it up Yeah, that bitch try'na be my Future, think she Sylvia Brown Niggas once were at the table with us, on the menu now Turn that whole table red, Big Willie style When I up that chopper, fuck it up, get it, I kill the clown Take that hoe and flip the bitch like whipping when you spin it 'round They knocked off your partner like an ammo lick, they still around? The irony of all these gyms on me when I'm lifting pounds Forest chicken, counting every hen I see like liquor rounds Yeah, they saying it's up 'til we sit 'em down Chop, leave 'em screwed, call the swisher house You broke, need a favor to figure out? I ain't got it, but just ran up fifty-thou' Since a young buck, only bank's I had was a shoe-box, better rent a couch Bitch said she don't trust me, next week I'm in her house, and nigga wow I just talked her into trusting me again, fuck it up Let a 'op go with his bitch riding in that Benz, fuck it up Fuck this taste, I'd like to pull out twenty bands, fuck it up Drop it low, now shake it standing on your hands, fuck it up Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it up Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it up Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it up Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it up Aus Songtexte Mania