CORRECT LYRICS
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Ain't nobody solid in your squad boy y'all some CB4's
Stacking and I'm starving in my penthouse eating pizza rolls
n*gga in my movie yousa b*tch like the Madea role
Came a long way from heating that house up with that kitchen stove
When I hit the booth I do that sh*t that they ain't did before
Ask your lil' homey for some change then he your bigger bro'
It's a half a brick up in this cup you gotta sip it slow
b*tch you not my b*tch, let's not forget so what you tripping for?
I'm trippin' for my n*ggas like some sh*t you never did before
Might just turn my b*tch into a P and have her sending hoes
Same Glock we took your brother with but this a different loaf
I speak for real n*ggas in them streets you wouldn't feel it though
That smoke what I been fiending for, your bro gon' get you beat up on
I came a long way from being broke I couldn't be no more
A hundred in that Masi off the mud I couldn't see no more
Them n*ggas showing guns up in them vids but they don't squeeze 'em though
Ain't too much game that you could put me on feel like I seen it all
n*ggas scream gang and yelling squad but they don't be evolved
I can show you where to get the work but you can't meet the boss
You rocking for a n*gga that run his mouth then you gon' be the cause, b*tch
Eyes blurry off a zip, never worried 'bout a b*tch
Let a n*gga run up on me put your brodie on a fit
I ain't wanna have to do it why that n*gga make me trip
That's why everywhere I go I keep that .40 on my hip
And if my n*gga drop a dime I'm like whose mans is this?
Why the f*ck you asking for the truth? You can't handle it
b*tch I got the torch, I play with fire, come get your candle lit
Sit your lil' ass down boy yousa pus*y, you don't stand for sh*t
These n*ggas ain't on sh*t man, let me tell you like my OG told me
Every time you on the mic better spit that sh*t
I just bought another foreign had to switch that whip
Catch a sucka out lackin' better bend that b*tch
Better up that score, better bust that clip
And I don't gotta beat your ass I let the K do it
Put the choppy choppy to his mouth like, "What you say stupid?"
You had a strap when n*ggas slid, heard you ain't use it
Now I do the fool up in that pus*y but I ant foolish
And for looking at me wrong, you can get your life took my n*gga
All I hang around is demons and them crooks my n*gga
Put that .40 on the counter when I cook my n*gga
'Cause T.O. without no Glock, how that look my n*gga?
Tryna take mama's only son and leave her traumatized
.40 was holding down my jeans that's why I bought a .9
n*ggas think they demons 'til we slide and have 'em calling God
After I bust that yes sir then baby call your ride
Tool tryna leave his family dead we aim at head and hit in legs
I just ran up twenty bands 'fore you was in and out the bed
Remember back when we was kids ain't think we'd grow up toting sticks
And sh*t the judge ain't got no sympathy for n*ggas on them sentences
I got fifty in the drum, got about twenty in my jeans
I ain't trickin' on no b*tch but I got tricks on up in the sleeve
He want me to spare his life, n*gga get up off your knees
First n*gga in the land who got it tatted on my sleeve
Ah, could look a n*gga in the eyes and tell he not 'bout it
I keep that heat up in my jeans I got hot pockets
And if you ain't really trip for your n*ggas then you a nerd to me
It's T.O. from the North of the V if n*ggas ain't heard of me
Ain't nobody solid in your squad boy y'all some CB4's
Stacking and I'm starving in my penthouse eating pizza rolls
n*gga in my movie yousa b*tch like the Madea role
Came a long way from heating that house up with that kitchen stove
When I hit the booth I do that sh*t that they ain't did before
Ask your lil' homey for some change then he your bigger bro'
It's a half a brick up in this cup you gotta sip it slow
b*tch you not my b*tch, let's not forget so what you tripping for?
I'm trippin' for my n*ggas like some sh*t you never did before
Might just turn my b*tch into a P and have her sending hoes
Same Glock we took your brother with but this a different loaf
I speak for real n*ggas in them streets you wouldn't feel it though
That smoke what I been fiending for, your bro gon' get you beat up on
I came a long way from being broke I couldn't be no more
A hundred in that Masi off the mud I couldn't see no more
Them n*ggas showing guns up in them vids but they don't squeeze 'em though
Ain't too much game that you could put me on feel like I seen it all
n*ggas scream gang and yelling squad but they don't be evolved
I can show you where to get the work but you can't meet the boss
You rocking for a n*gga that run his mouth then you gon' be the cause, b*tch
Eyes blurry off a zip, never worried 'bout a b*tch
Let a n*gga run up on me put your brodie on a fit
I ain't wanna have to do it why that n*gga make me trip
That's why everywhere I go I keep that .40 on my hip
And if my n*gga drop a dime I'm like whose mans is this?
Why the f*ck you asking for the truth? You can't handle it
b*tch I got the torch, I play with fire, come get your candle lit
Sit your lil' ass down boy yousa pus*y, you don't stand for sh*t
These n*ggas ain't on sh*t man, let me tell you like my OG told me
Every time you on the mic better spit that sh*t
I just bought another foreign had to switch that whip
Catch a sucka out lackin' better bend that b*tch
Better up that score, better bust that clip
And I don't gotta beat your ass I let the K do it
Put the choppy choppy to his mouth like, "What you say stupid?"
You had a strap when n*ggas slid, heard you ain't use it
Now I do the fool up in that pus*y but I ant foolish
And for looking at me wrong, you can get your life took my n*gga
All I hang around is demons and them crooks my n*gga
Put that .40 on the counter when I cook my n*gga
'Cause T.O. without no Glock, how that look my n*gga?
Tryna take mama's only son and leave her traumatized
.40 was holding down my jeans that's why I bought a .9
n*ggas think they demons 'til we slide and have 'em calling God
After I bust that yes sir then baby call your ride
Tool tryna leave his family dead we aim at head and hit in legs
I just ran up twenty bands 'fore you was in and out the bed
Remember back when we was kids ain't think we'd grow up toting sticks
And sh*t the judge ain't got no sympathy for n*ggas on them sentences
I got fifty in the drum, got about twenty in my jeans
I ain't trickin' on no b*tch but I got tricks on up in the sleeve
He want me to spare his life, n*gga get up off your knees
First n*gga in the land who got it tatted on my sleeve
Ah, could look a n*gga in the eyes and tell he not 'bout it
I keep that heat up in my jeans I got hot pockets
And if you ain't really trip for your n*ggas then you a nerd to me
It's T.O. from the North of the V if n*ggas ain't heard of me
