Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Juicy J
Juicy J
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Jordan Houston
Jordan Houston
Songwriter
Gilbere Forte
Gilbere Forte
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Hitkidd
Hitkidd
Producer

Lyrics

Mane, when my momma passed away It sent me to a dark place Going through some shit real niggas only deal with Life is a bitch, you still fuck her on a period Cold in these streets, a nigga hungry for that meal ticket Racing for this cash, I ain't got no fucking kill switch Back against the wall niggas plottin' on my riches Gotta watch these niggas, I see gators from a distance Catch and cook they ass, get lil' momma make some biscuits When you come from the Memphis, niggas eat the competition Icy ghetto bling, nigga, I'm way too luxurious My weed got diamonds in it, I get high and delirious Black as Eddie Murphy, but my joker's way too serious When bullets get to flying, niggas start to disappear and shit Niggas in they feelings you so mothafuckin' curious Bet they be talkin' 'bout me, then they say that they be hearing shit What type of niggas is y'all? Shut the fuck up Watch you come around, you can't be fucking with these bitches Working with some police, man, these niggas is some piglets Can't talk on the phone niggas out here hearing "click, click" Moving like a don, you ain't running from no heat, heat Watch you come around, you can't be fucking with these bitches Working with the police, man, these niggas is some piglets Can't talk on the phone, niggas out here hearing "click, click" Moving like a don, you ain't running from no heat, heat I ain't quick to trust a bitch, that ain't part of the experience Fuck 'em fast and furious, point, blank, period Hoes that's in your business, be the ones your niggas sleeping with Fly to get your trust and swallow nuts and get you killed quick Ain't no time for sucka shit, we're no bucket, bitch boy If you ain't at the top, then you ain't the one they're fucking with It's rules to this shit, keep a chopper and a zip With extendo smoking indo, out the end zone, I don't miss Kiss my daughter every morning, she know daddy out to get Every time I leave a house, I gotta watch out for a snitch I pulled up in that Hellcat, man that bitch is a witch I started demon time, nigga, I'm three six You're looking at hood rich, I might take your shit Slap a hating ass nigga, watch him cry like a bitch Middle finger mothafucker, you a hoe and a trick Tear the fuckin' club up when this play that shit Watch you come around, you can't be fucking with these bitches Working with the police, man, these niggas is some piglets Can't talk on the phone, niggas out here hearing "click, click" Moving like a don, you ain't running from no heat, heat Watch you come around, you can't be fucking with these bitches Working with the police, man, these niggas is some piglets Can't talk on the phone, niggas out here hearing "click, click" Moving like a don, you ain't running from no heat, heat
Writer(s): J. Houston, Gilbere Forte Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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