Ignorant Shit (ETM) Educated Thug Music Songtext
Songtext powered by LyricFind
(Verse)
I told her roll with a picture of my sons in my wallet
I let her hold my stash, that's my ghetto Rihanna
Got my own clothing line, words to my designer
I never pay trav, but I always pay homage.
So stress free, with no baby mama drama
A memo to my ex girls, I don't want no problems.
Stretch young, got more grown man, I'm just roddy
She drippin soakin wet when I spit this fire.
But all hood niggas got something in common
I told her roll with a picture of my sons in my wallet
I let her hold my stash, that's my ghetto Rihanna
Got my own clothing line, words to my designer
I never pay trav, but I always pay homage.
So stress free, with no baby mama drama
A memo to my ex girls, I don't want no problems.
Stretch young, got more grown man, I'm just roddy
She drippin soakin wet when I spit this fire.
But all hood niggas got something in common
Like when your pockets mad low, you take your girl to McDonald's
Swear you never cheat, but you broke your promise
You was out all night, tryina chase that dollar.
Straight getting it, cause chillin ain't getting you paid
And I ain't tryina be good, boy I'm tryina be great.
And I can't feel my face, from this L to the head
From the cradle to the grave, bet I get this cake.
And don't get me twisted, broke so incompatible
Single parent household, I did what I had to do.
Fable my desk, any nigga with an atitude
What's the yap about if it's not matemathical.
Put that on 4, shout out to my homie calio
Cause he been told me that I'll blow, calico
OG kush keeps me high, earl manago.
Flashback, counting money on my mama paddy yo
I let my girl who ratchet, hold my ratchet
Stunt to my casket, major than matemathics
A big tum I like Beatrice
She soakin, she fucking up my mattress
That's my private dancer. Free boosie, I'm a savage, like nas, I flow nasty
I get my blueprint from Millmatic
He got at least 9 right back at it,
Spent this last ran up like nothing else matter.
Since 98 I've been established, from low class to lavish
Now I tour this world like Mick jagger
I make a keneth off my talent, grown women call me daddy
I came a long way from flippin patties
Ain't shit sweet like candy hard knock like Annie
I'm sorry, no snacks in my pantry.
Back denim bills had my mom mad stress
But now we all good, her son mad bless.
Swear you never cheat, but you broke your promise
You was out all night, tryina chase that dollar.
Straight getting it, cause chillin ain't getting you paid
And I ain't tryina be good, boy I'm tryina be great.
And I can't feel my face, from this L to the head
From the cradle to the grave, bet I get this cake.
And don't get me twisted, broke so incompatible
Single parent household, I did what I had to do.
Fable my desk, any nigga with an atitude
What's the yap about if it's not matemathical.
Put that on 4, shout out to my homie calio
Cause he been told me that I'll blow, calico
OG kush keeps me high, earl manago.
Flashback, counting money on my mama paddy yo
I let my girl who ratchet, hold my ratchet
Stunt to my casket, major than matemathics
A big tum I like Beatrice
She soakin, she fucking up my mattress
That's my private dancer. Free boosie, I'm a savage, like nas, I flow nasty
I get my blueprint from Millmatic
He got at least 9 right back at it,
Spent this last ran up like nothing else matter.
Since 98 I've been established, from low class to lavish
Now I tour this world like Mick jagger
I make a keneth off my talent, grown women call me daddy
I came a long way from flippin patties
Ain't shit sweet like candy hard knock like Annie
I'm sorry, no snacks in my pantry.
Back denim bills had my mom mad stress
But now we all good, her son mad bless.
Songtext powered by LyricFind