Lyrics

ZT, let me talk out quick! Where would I be without my pyrex and my clientele Probably broke and disgusted, dead or in jail! But with my right wrist, I learned to cook fish Focus in the game, with one goal get rich, OK Get money, stack paper, OK Middle fingers in the air to a hater, OK! Get money, stack paper, OK Middle fingers in the air to a hater, OK! Wish a nigga would, nigga wish he could Be the juice man, got work in every hood (yes Sir!) But I stay down (down), so I can wear the crown (yes Sir!) Sucka nigga hate, pussy with a frown (pussy) You can join the circus, cause I dont know this clown (Bobo!)Bouldercrest road thats my stomping ground! Shout out little Dre, that nigga hold me down 32 ENT and we dont fuck around! Wit no pussy niggas, no Wit no hating niggas, no Wit no sucka niggas, Yeah we from Decatur, nigga! Get some money, nigga Get a hustle, nigga Youre a pocket watcher ... you Russian missles Where would I be without my pyrex and my clientele Probably broke and disgusted, dead or in jail! But with my right wrist, I learned to cook fish Focus in the game, with one goal get rich, OK Get money, stack paper, OK Middle fingers in the air to a hater, OK! Get money, stack paper, OK Middle fingers in the air to a hater, OK! Hi-hi-hater, I guess youre mad, cause my shoes is alligator Every time I step out young juiceman look like he tailored Blowing 93, RG3 when he paid for Baylor. White and blue polos, keep em looking like a sailor Kobe Bryant rich like I just signed with the Lakers. Keep a shooter with me, Reggie Miller from the Pacers Go go gadget car ... like speed racer Nigga hate on me, No.#2 pencil erase ya Swear Im from Alaska, cuz my jewlery like a glacier. Came from the bottom to the top, look how I raised up Culinary arts school, yeah, I keep my grades up! Where would I be without my pyrex and my clientele Probably broke and disgusted, dead or in jail! But with my right wrist, I learned to cook fish Focus in the game, with one goal get rich, OK Get money, stack paper, OK Middle fingers in the air to a hater, OK! Get money, stack paper, OK
Writer(s): Jesse Jones Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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