Correction Lyrics 1999 by Quando Rondo

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Lyrics

Mhmm
(Al Geno on the track)
Mhmm, California
She wanna fly to California

I bet the bank, I knew I couldn’t afford, yeah
Now we be shopping in designer stores, yeah
Steal from the rich, I’m rich, a Rollie, give it to the poor
Lately, I been focused on murder, new shells on the floor
Watch Timmy beat the block up
Them niggas hate, I’m hard knock
We spin this block so many times, they talk, run ’em down with that Glock 9
That Juvenile, that Boosie boo, that back in nineteen-nine-nine
Shake, shake the block, we up them glizzies
We bound to lay ’em all down

I’ma show them boys who run the city, we gon’ kill ’em all out
Top shotta, top dotta, four pound gon’ knock ’em all off
Never respond to what they say, they in the race, they all be chasin’ clout
My youngest say he tryna get paid
Stay with the K’s to show me what you ’bout
You keep a rod but you won’t pull the trigger
No, they don’t know them boys out west when it’s some pussy niggas
Just copped the new AK, ayy plus, we got the new 9 miller
Glock 34, we up and blow, we made the CJ Spiller
The internet thug so hard, when we spin them-
Same niggas that dropped your deal asked me did I want to get you knocked
The plan was when you come to sign a paper, G was gon’ run down with Glocks
I swear I’m steady flexin’ on the opps
That two-door coupe, I swerved it off the lot
You play with blue, that’s the day you get shot
I got that bank, I know my partners spot
I take a look into the sky, from day to night, it be stormin’
The boy already caught a case, it not even much warning
We up the score, that’s on the locs, I catch a opp, them I’m scorin’
These brand new Fendi’s on my feet, she ain’t wanna fuck when I wore Jordan’s
I’ma slap a thirty in the glizzy, what they call Stephen Curry
I was countin’ up a half a millie, I’m not even much worried
All the opps really pussy, I swear the whole city know it
Just wait the day for the tooly, you know that we be sixty rollin’

Lately, I been focused on murder, new shells on the floor
Watch Timmy beat the block up
Them niggas hate, I’m hard knock
We spin this block so many times, they talk, run ’em down with that Glock 9
That Juvenile, that Boosie boo, that back in nineteen-nine-nine

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