Who y'all talking to man?
Check it out, check it out
This here goes out
To all the niggas that be f**king mad b**ches
In other niggas cribs
Thinkin sh*t is sweet
Ni**a creep up on your a**, hahaha
Live niggas respect it, check it
I kick flows for ya, kick down doors for ya
Even left all my motherf**king hoes for ya
Niggas think Frankie p**sy whipped, ni**a picture that
With a Kodak, Insta-ma-tak
We don't get down like that, lay my game down quite flat
Sweetness, where you parked at?
Petiteness but that a** fat
She got a body make a ni**a wanna eat that, I'm f**k with you
The b**ch official doe, dick harder than a missile yo
Try to hit if she trippin disappearing like Arsenio
Yo, the b**ch push a double-oh
With the five in front, probably a conniving stunt
Y'all drive in front, I'm a peel with her
Find a deal with her, she f**k around and steal, huh?
Then we all get laced
Television's, Versacci heaven, when I'm up in em
The sh*t she kicked, all the sh*t's legit
She get dick from a player off the New York Knicks
Ni**a tricked ridiculous, the sh*t was plush
She's stressing me to f**k, like she was in a rush
We f**ked in his bed, quite dangerous
I'm in his a** while he playing against the Utah Jazz
My 112, CD blast, I was past
She came twice I came last, roll the grass
She giggle, say I don't smoke it on homegrown
Then I heard her moan, honey I'm home
Yep, tote chrome for situations like this
I'm up in his broad I know he won't like this
Now I'm like b**ch you better talk to him
Before this fist put a spark to him
F**k around sh*t get dark to him, put a part through him
Lose a major part to him, arm, leg
She beggin me to stop but this cat gettin closer
Gettin hot like a toaster, I cocks the toast, uhh
Before my eyes could blink
She screams out, "Honey bring me up somethin to drink!"
He go back downstairs more time to think
Her brain racing, she's telling me to stay patient
She don't know I'm, cool as a fan
Gat in hand, I don't wanna blast her man
But I can and I will doe, I probably chill doe
Even though situation lookin kinda ill yo
It came to me like a song I wrote
Told the b**ch gimme your scarf, pillowcase and rope
Got dressed quick, tied the scarf around my face
Roped the b**ch up, gagged her mouth with the pillowcase
Play the cut, ni**a coming off some love potion sh*t
Flash the heat on em, he stood emotionless
Dropped the glass screaming, "Don't blast here's the stash,
A hundred cash just don't shoot my a**, please!"
Ni**a pulling mad G's out the floor
Put stacks in a Prater knapsack, hit the door
Grab the keys to the five, call my niggas on the cell
Bring some w**d I got a story to tell, uhh...
Y'all niggas ain't gonna believe
What the f**k happened to me.
Remember that b**ch I left the club with man?
Yo, freaky yo.
I'm up in this b**ch player
This b**ch f**king run them old Knick a** niggas and sh*t,
I'm up in the spot though.
One of them six-five niggas,
I don't know.
Anyway I'm up in the motherf**king spot,
So boom I'm up in the p**sy,
I sparks up some lye,
Pop Duke creeps up in on some,
Must have been rained out or something
Because he's in the spot.
Had me scared, had me scared,
I was shook Daddy -
But I forget I had my Roscoe on me.
You know how we do.
So anyway the ni**a
Comes up the stairs,
He Ñreeping up the steps,
The b**ch all shook she
Sends the ni**a back downstairs to get some drinks and sh*t.
She gettin mad nervous,
I said f**k that man!
I'm the ni**a,
You know how we do it
Ransom note style put the scarf
Around my motherf**king face,
Gagged that b**ch up,
Played the kizzack.
Soon this ni**a comes up in
Flash the Desert in his face he drops the glass.
The ni**a pissed on his-self or somethin,
Word to mother! Ahh f**k it
This ni**a runs dead to the floor,
Peels up the carpet,
Start giving me
Mad papers, mad papers.
(I told you that b**ch was a shiesty b**ch cause!
Word to mother I used to f**k her cousin
But you ain't know that!
You wouldn't know that sh*t.
I threw all that
Motherf**king money up in the Prater knapsack.
Two words, I'm gone!
(No doubt, no doubt... no doubt!)
Yo ni**a got some lye, y'all got
God Bless The Dead
Get Away (Explicit Album Version)
I Wonder If Heaven Got A Ghetto
Like My Style
Young Black Male ((Explicit))
Speaking So Freely
this is home
does people chill here too