Lyrics : We Paid

Can't be f**ked with
Ayy, 4 Pockets, huh
(Section 8 just straight cooked this motherf**ker up)

'Fore I go broke like Joc
f**k with that dog like Vick (Roof)
Not that rock, that pit'
Palm Angels down to my sock
Can't hold my Glock, reason I don't really like that sh*t (n***a, I don't)
Young turnt n***a, can't wife no b*t*h (At all)
Excuse my French, don't like no b*t*h (Nope)
Limo tinted, all five of my cars, yeah, I had it hard
Seen my b*t*h broke bad, I ain't had a heart
Skrrt, yeah, that's us
Two-tone AP, yeah, I'm bust
Got the head from her, I ain't even wanna f**k (f**k her)
Why? sl*t, bye (f**k on)
Nothin' on me from Saks, everything Revive
Old n***a tellin' on bro, should've died
No, he ain't kill 'em, dawg, he ain't even try
Still'll bet my last shootin' dice in the hood
Take who chain? Nah b*t*h, not Dugg's
Probably in somethin' fast with a Glock in the hood
Courtside tickets, spillin' Wock' on the wood