Lyrics
But even now, I don't think we see what's behind the violence
It's not just a demand for possessions for owning things
It's a demand for self-respect (227 ConCreature Gang)
I've been working for two years, real hard, right?
And now I (Mafia, what else?)
Have something else to say (uh)
Let's make it a moment, you break it, you bought it, you take it, you own it
But if you get assaulted, this ain't what you wanted (at all)
I aim it and shoot it, this hundred clip, it came with the cooler (brrt)
Love the double-dip, but that's what you get for making me do this (yeah)
Taking me through it, show me the safe, taking me to it
On the chase for a hundred mil', feel like they racing me to it (chyoom)
A and B student of the game, got the recipe to it
Unlike all of these other lames that used to having 'em blew it (lame, lame)
Shit they post to be counting me in on was never included (never)
Ten or eight grams, I breakdance the bag and I move it (that icky)
Racks in my Ksubis, took off on 'migo, half-brick of Scooby
And a partridge of Cardi B 'cause that bitch bad and she bougie (cold times)
Stashing my hoopty, down in Toledo trapping with Druski (brodie)
Quick to open that 4-0 up like I'm cracking a brewski
Stacking them oochies by the bag when you asking for Moochie
Know he want all the smoke, he even want the backs on the loosie
Let's get it
Uh, standing on big ol' business
Chopper came with a kickstand and some tig ol' bitties
What else? (Grrt)
This other clip hold fifty
How you claim you the brick man and you snitched on niggas?
You know it (pssh), I spit this shit so vivid
Don't make a nigga up the stick and flip the switch on niggas
You heard? Standing on big ol' business
Sliding down gripping that slam with a big pole in it, it's Blocks (it's Jackson)
Can't let the discos flickers
On 6-4 grittin', I'm ten toes in it (McNichols)
Windows tinted, Versace heaven, indo scented (gang)
Mike Amiri jeans but the hoodie sweater Kenzo-knitted
It's on (finna whip up)
Just give me ten more minutes
I keep them rack-racks on me, got my wrist on tennis
The kid on shimmer, my shit don't dim (bling)
This big old Kimber'll knock him down then yell, "Timber" (pow)
Maxwell member, breakdancing them fish scale dinners (Eastside)
Got these niggas sick 'bout my new bitch, hope they get well quicker (yeah)
The V12 shifter, blow cutter, B12 mixer
Got fifty Ezells and thirty, forty seashells sniffers (big dummy)
The seat belt clicker, flow bizarre like that D12 nigga (money)
Gray flakes in the cake, custom bricks that we sell different
But we still hit 'em and give 'em to my resale flippers (my youngins)
Popping like you're the chulio but I know females richer, for sure
Uh, standing on big ol' business
Chopper came with a kickstand and some tig ol' bitties
What else? This other clip hold fifty
How you claim you the brick man and you snitched on niggas?
You know it (pssh), I spit this shit so vivid
Don't make a nigga up the stick and flip the switch on niggas, you heard? (Grrt, ayy)
Standing on big ol' business
Sliding down gripping that slam with a big pole in it, it's Blocks (you know it)