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Anti Motive
by
BandGang Lonnie Bands
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Lyrics
Big bank take lil' bank, he get embarrassed These b*t*hes call me Bugs Bunny, they see all these carats n***a, Hutch did the piece, who the f**k is Jared? Huh, n***a, huh I’m on the interstate, Beanie Sigel on me and a parrot Japanese steak, thousand-dollar plate, I can't share it f**k your mixtape, MC Gusto, I don't wanna hear it Have that chopper sing in your face, n***a, Sean Garrett n***a slang rock, high eighty, where the f**k is Harry? And the meth housе did eighty, boy, we wholesalin’ And thе AMG do zero to eighty, V12 in it And the b*t*h and the whip European, I'm from Great Britain My lil' n***a need some therapy, he can't stop killin' I'm in the field pickin' cocoa leaves, you a house n***a And it's f**ked up I used to hand-to-hand women And it’s f**ked up we shoot guns in front of children What’s your bankroll like? Mine big as hell I ain't dyin’, I'ma get rich or go to jail Birds of a feather flock together and they die as well When that soda and that yola lock, it go on sale We ain't worried 'bout no murder case, millions for the bail We’ll make it snow today, tomorrow, it'll hail Got on a mink for the snowstorm n***a, I'm in the ice rink with my skates on f**ked your b*t*h off the E, hardcore porn So geeked, I ain't even put the rubber on Hundred a week, f**k you talkin' 'bout, the border closed? b*t*h, and we still ain't cheap, boy, you really gotta order those I done threw away twenty-five flip phones Talkin' to the plug, we get our whisper on (Jimbo) I got Anti on my jeans, I am not friendly APs, Rolexes, the motive is that Richard Mille Got on thousand-dollar jeans with a fifty in it Half of it pink fifties, other half blue Benjis Tough n***a hoodrich, but a hundred million, that's the motive You still on bullsh*t, boy, I'm like Phil with the scold Chopper ten bricks, but a hundred of 'em, that's the motive I'm back rollin', I got focused, they don't like that sh*t I got these grown n***as hurt hurt I heard you n***as hit rock bottom, Big Herk On my Guwop sh*t, put his ass in the dirt Ho, I thought you need these blue tips, get Hotboy Turk R.I.P. DeDe, gave my brother twelve as a juvenile R.I.P. Skinny, can't believe this sh*t comin' out my mouth Ain't sh*t pretty, I ain't been havin' sh*t to really smile about Soul empty while I'm in here sittin' this big-ass house
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