Lyrics

I thought you knew that I the man on me Got all these bitches want dance on me None of 'em can't wait to get their hands on me And I'm so hard I got the opps turn into fans on me Keep the tooly keep some bands on me I'm never lackin' I be damned on me Brand new Glock that bitch won't jam on me And I'm so hard I got the opps turn into fans on me From the bottom of the bottom is where I came from Fought fire with fire nigga I had a flamer I turn my hell into heaven yup I done came up Had to kick disloyal subjects up out of my kingdom Whether they hate me or not they still bring my name up But I only rock with the ones who ain't never change up It's kind of funny when haters start smellin' money Everybody want to hop all aboard like here the train come Remember whippin' through the town on me A couple thou' forty cal on me I put food in mouths servin' pounds on me And niggas hate I graduated cap and gown on me A bunch of jewelry bunch of tats on me That ass was fat she threw it back on me Her nigga mad cause I got racks on me But boy I come like overalls you know the straps on me Forty on my hip again, thirty in my clip again I feel like Diddy with L.O.X. I'm about my Benjamin Had to hustle in this concrete jungle we livin' in Been down before let the devil know I ain't giving in I put God first and he put me back on my shit again These haters pissed again they throwing a fit again But soon as I win again they back on my dick again I'm making banks uncle Phil up in Vivian No injury but lots of ice on me Heard you wanna poke me like a knife on me I hope you really bout that life on me Cause once I'm up you know I'm shootin' like the dice on me A bunch of haters wishing death on me Don't get a casket tryna flex on me Cause I'm a turn into to a ref on me That tool eject up out this Tec that how he left on me
Writer(s): Walter Bradford, Langston Childs Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out