CORRECT LYRICS

Lyrics : Border Patrol

(Coach me, Joey)
(Damn, E, this a cla**ic)
(Joey)

I'm still rich
N***as pillow talkin' to some hoes that I been hit (I been hit)
Put a couple tags on your head, b*t*h, you been it (Been it)

Spend like thirty bands on my neck, b*t*h, I been lit (Been lit)
F**k is you talkin' to, n***a? (Huh?), better lower your tone (Lower)
I got killers on standby, I got lawyers on go (Let's go)
I get mine out the trap, I ain't order no phone
Crib off the water, get protected by border patrol (Woo)

Bag from overseas, thirty-one a key
Twenty of 'em Joe's, thirty of 'em P's
I could turn up weed, rather push the beans
Pharms gettin' iffy, rather serve the fiends
Keep dog with me, P been drinkin' lean (Yeah)

40 with the beam, point this b*t*h right at your ball cap, n***a
Plugged in, I'm connected like a bra strap, n***a
Watch your motherf**kin' mouth or get your jaw tapped, n***a
We with all that, n***a, better fall back, n***a, yeah (Ayy)
Why you playin' roles if you ain't got no clips? (Why you playin'?)
I just like her pics, I don't like that b*t*h (At all)
The whole East f**ked, don't wife that b*t*h (Don't do it)
I like my Sprite clean, don't spike my sh*t, ayy (No cap)

I like my whites plain, don't ice my sh*t, yeah
Off-White my 'fit, yeah, One Mic that brick, yeah
Get it hard for me
That lil' sh*t they took from doggy, that was our money (Okay)
Yeah, now we all comin'

Run it up and stash it (Stash it)
F**kin' hoes from Dallas (Dallas)
Don't call me McFashion (Naw)
Three bands for the gla**es (Gla**es)
Hellcats, we stabbin' (Skrrt)
Your b*t*h, we smashin' (Yup)
F**k her twice, then pa** her (Pa** her)
Big racks, no cappin' (No cappin')

My hood, I'm the captain (Captain)
Did more dirt than the Mavericks (Mavericks)
Yeah, I'm serious 'bout fashion (Fashion)
Two racks for this jacket (Period)
Red light, no camera (No)
Do a n***a so nasty (So nasty)
When he got hit, we was laughin'
We celebrated when it happened (B*t*h)
Gettin' rich my answer, that's to all this sh*t (Period)
Ridin' with three hoes (Three), we all got sticks, right
We all sell pints, yeah, those all got hit, ayy
I talk my sh*t, right, I walk it too
Got J's for seventy (Seventy), want thirty a blue (Thirty)
Ayy, this for Neph (Neph), and that's for Scoot (Scoot)
Sh*t had me stressed, I still came through (Joey, huh)

Hundred bands after hundred bands
N***a fronted you, you did the running man
Sticked up like a marching band
We rolling deep like a caravan (Come on)
Wrapped up like a promo van
Don't ask me, I don't know that man (Don't know that n***a, huh, b*t*h)

(Damn, E, this a cla**ic)