Top Songs By B Free
Credits
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Brenton M Freeman
Songwriter
Lyrics
Big money
Big booty bitches dancing on a nigga
Damn brody I'm styling on you
Fly as hell, she high as well and I can tell
This is her first time out with a real nigga, oh
Damn, don't get kilt tonight
Let's get peelt' tonight and then treat it like
Somebody started shooting up the club
Somebody started shooting up the club
Get down to the ground right now nigga
They ain't playing with you nigga, aye
They started shooting up the club and that's a no no
They even started bussing at the strippers and the po po
Somebody started shooting up the club
Somebody started shooting up the club
Amy just started doing all the drugs
Molly just started doing all the molly
With bodies on top of bodies getting slumped
A young killer screaming, "Only real ones here! No broke niggas!"
In 09' I was chilling with the dope dealers
The crack babies serving coke up at Coachella
Silver back fur coat looking like a gorilla
You ain't as dope as you think
She ain't a virgin man she a freak
Told that nigga from the go my services ain't free
Imma need a down payment you wanted a verse from me
Hold up baby momma I was gifted, I was elevated
Knew this shit would happen, we don't even have to celebrate it
They can't do what we do, they to soft man they to fabricated
Yeah, awe man here they go with all the hating
Rich young nigga stay popping
All of my bitches in pocket
The QB pass it I can't drop it
Running back with the mileage
Catching top on an island
Aye, only way out is a box
Aye, only way in is the truth
Aye, only time you beating me is when I'm sleep or vacating with the crew
And we don't ever take the time off
Don't nobody even mind y'all
Told lil momma imma hound dog
Imma savage baby with the lights off
I'm back to back, hit after hit with it Johnny Bench
Platinum plaques hang on the wall in my habitat
Shawty can't enter the crib in that fucking dress
Tell her get naked for me and make it clap
I go make ten and my momma get half of that
Fuck what you claim you a pussycat
Who is that?
Bitch I'm that young rich nigga with a line up don't tell me that you never heard of him
This shit is simple
I went missing for a couple months and cut my ties with these venues
Y'all was dropping albums doing open mic events and these venues
And now you sending beats to me in hopes that I would come to your rescue
Y'all niggas got the game fucked up
Shout out to the shooters and the shooters only
Rolling round town with a tenderoni, you can see her on me
Talking money, we got plenty homie
I just left LA the city vivid you can smell it on me
I got selling homies, got twenty five to life felons homies
Heard niggas been out here telling on me
Why you jealous homie?
The greed defeats the things that we receive in life to leave the seeds to seize
That shit is priceless
Let the bodies hit the floor
Let the bodies hit the floor, yeah
Let the bodies hit the floor
Let the bodies hit the floor, yeah
Writer(s): Brenton Freeman
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