CORRECT LYRICS

Lyrics : Arguing, Pt. 2

(Rich)
Yeah, n***a
Mannn
Rio
What up
What the f**k we doin'?
Everything n***a
(It's with a K, dumba**)
(Turn up, Rich)

I'll put?some?bread, a n***a?like me won't get touched
I just?f**ked a bad b*t*h, in some all black buffs
How you?in?your?feelings over a?n***a that's catching?the bus?
Yeah I'm off 2 percs, I'm feeling the rush
$550 for my muthaf**kin' coat
You'll think a n***a scamming, b*t*h I ain't hit no road
Stuffin' somethin' good in my pocket, I got a loaf
You ain't never got no real chicken, boy you broke

22 hun' ain't sh*t, that's just a boat
33 racks ain't nothin', that's just a brick of coke
I'll sprinkle red on some Karo and watch it grow
I stay in the 'burbs, I ain't even got to lock the door
Got into it with a b*t*h and whipped the Glock out
Left the dope game and start rappin', I'm a dropout
Gave Ghost the Drac' now he want beef, I brought the akh' out
You don't own sh*t, You left your b*t*h and all she threw was socks out
Only time you f**k a bad b*t*h, is when you trickin'
Last n***a spoke on G, that n***a came up missing
Last b*t*h stole from me, caught a bullet to the t**ty
You can keep your 30 rounds, boy I'm totin' on a 50

You can keep your Smith & Wesson, this a Glock 30
I took a bubble bath today, but my pop dirty
Kept the Rollie on in the shower cause my watch dirty
Pull up on the opps and drop 30 out a Dodge Journey

Been in a different bag, but not no purses
Cashed out on a Jesus piece, but I do not do churches
B*t*h on Facebook talkin', but I do not do lurkin'
Pour a Barney in my cup, but I do not be perpin'

My b*t*h shake the bag, not her a**, she do not be twerkin'
I act just like this with every b*t*h, I do not be flirtin'
Caught a n***a leavin' Mr. Alan's, he got popped on Kermit
I'm like a P.O., I stood there and watched dawg drop on Thursday

Caused a scene at McDonald's, I do not like pickles
Glock kiss him in the cheek, I hope his b*t*h like dimples
Tried to slap that b*t*h in the club, but I missed her
Sold dawg some strongs, the way he cough, you think he had that sickness
Fan tried to flick it up with me, I do not take pictures
Cooked the 12 piece extra hard, I did not make chicken
Pooter off a E, he been up for like 5 days trippin'
House big as f**k, ain't no garage, our driveways different

Goated Kidd b*t*h, I know you heard about me
Pop a n***a, and then go and write a verse about it
Turn your mans into a R.I.P song, and write a verse about him
I need at least $550 to get a verse up out me

I need at least 5 racks to spit a hook out
Brodie got a brick, I got a brick, let's have a cookout
Just paid unc to sit at the corner, he a lookout
F**ked 200 hoes in one summer and write a book 'bout it