Stupid Shit

(Money done geeked on this motherfucker)

I need answers for that stupid shit

Too many standards for a groupie bitch

I waste some syrup on my Prada kicks

Mason Margiela on my Dallas shit

I'm huggin' the curb, I'm pushin' the pedal to bake my brids

If you know 'bout a murder, can't say what you saw, just come on the turf

No nose on the Draco, sawed it off and ate up his nerves

And we lose it all, we takin' 'em off and makin' it worse

Walk down with that pole, they can wipe they nose

I just bought diamonds for the show, totin' this stick that got so many souls

Pass her some monyun she fuckin' the bro

Get popped like a pimple, yeah, right out the Rolls

Drop off on her face, she ordered a load

I'm 'bout the business, she know how it go

Ain't duckin' no beef, we gotta eat

Keep that shit street, we goin' leave him deceased

I keep a stash with my bitch on the east

They like to see, I'm keepin' peace

Four by four Jeep, ain't nothin' cheap

Fuck the ignition, we don't need a key

Want change yo' life, then take a seat

Ralphy gon' give you a price for the P's

Yeah

I need answers for that stupid shit

Too many standards for a groupie bitch

I waste some syrup on my Prada kicks

Mason Margiela on my Dallas shit

I'm huggin' the curb, I'm pushin' the pedal to bake my brids

If you know 'bout a murder, can't say what you saw, just come on the turf

No nose on the Draco, sawed it off and ate up his nerves

And we lose it all, we takin' 'em off and makin' it worse (slatt)

Put 'em on a shirt, ate a Percocet, make her pussy squirt (let's go)

Cuttin' up in traffic in a fast thin', tell em' watch me work (Keed talk to 'em)

Really you can't even see in, Maybach came with curtains

MP for the blicky and I got five-seven

Don't want a shrimp, she want a big dog (let's go)

I tell her whatever she leap like a frog

And Rolls Royce umbrellas hide me from the clout

Yeah, hide me from the clout

These niggas can't get no dap (no sir)

You can get shook down, nigga with a strap (yessirski)

Me and B-Dime, we slidin' in a Porsche

Two-twenty-five when we put it in sport (come catch us)

I need answers for that stupid shit (Slatt)

Too many standards for a groupie bitch

I waste some syrup on my Prada kicks

Mason Margiela on my Dallas shit

I'm huggin' the curb, I'm pushin' the pedal to bake my brids

If you know 'bout a murder, can't say what you saw, just come on the turf

No nose on the Draco, sawed it off and ate up his nerves

And we lose it all, we takin' 'em off and makin' it worse