Letras
Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay
Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay
Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay
Ay, bro, weigh them bows up
We gon' move them zags later
We gon' get these loads done
If you grab a box of butter, I can show you more love
N- hated on the line, I went and found my own plug, yeah
Ay, -, run them pros up
Mr. Blue Strip, big bankroll, I don't even own dubs
Big dog, drop a bag off, she ain't turn her phone up
N- hidin', you keep playin', you gon' get your folks touched
Bad -, nose up, hair did, toes done
B-, pull your clothes up, I'm just tryna throw -
How you say you really love me? Let my bro -
OT catchin' plays, yeah, we got it sewed up
All we do is road run, -, how you wanna funk?
You don't even tote guns, that - gave his load up
So we beat his load up
Beat they block back to back, they can't even post up
B-, we really trap, bring me a hundred
I ain't Lil Wayne, but bet I bring a milli' back
60 thousand all blues, rented out her kitty cat
Yeah, she had a pretty trap, no Chris Brown, just give me that
Breaking off, no gettin' back, - play, we get him whacked
We want body after body, we ain't with the tit for tat
I ain't with the chitter-chat, I ain't with the internet
If it's on, then it's on, we pull up like Menace Black
Yeah, yeah, in the kitchen, get my scale on
No lil' boy -, six-figure plays on my cellphone
Yeah, yeah, I sell strong, good gas like Shell phone
I don't have lil' brain, tryna grab a bag 'cause I don't sell zone
Shaq in the paint, I'm throwin' elbows
Real funk, every time we bump, we lettin' shells blow
This your first time on the skit, -, what you scared for?
You ain't tryna catch a hat, what the - you here for?