Gonna take care of it,
I gotta get
it's
I'ma put a bullet in my head
* it back in the coupe yeah
* it back in the coupe yeah
Be my one fine day, baby
I'ma roll out a red
Roll out a red, I'ma shot it
Roll out a red
I'ma roll out a red
Whole lotta gang *
Whole lotta real when they came in
Whole lotta pain, lotta bullshit
Walk in they screaming my name
Whole lotta bread
Whole lotta guap in my head
Whole lotta ice
I'ma take it back,
yeah Make it on my own,
baby Think it can never be my own
Too much to match these seeds,
baby Just take it with you when you're home, yeah
Whole lotta state and *,
don't give it up
Then we gon' take it
I don't work with no one
And I work that I'm done
So give that money on me,
baby I'ma go get a house up up there
I'ma get some rice in the bag,
yeah Spend a hundred billion and more,
don't tell ya I'ma sell it and bury it in my grave,
yeah * it, I ain't a cool oldie
Gotta pay for the rate of each day
* it, I ain't a cool oldie
Gotta pay for the rate of each
And it looks like I already
And it go with the picture
And it go in the C sorry
And it go I'm so afraid
And it go with my fag
And it go with all my hater
Yeah.
For the rid of it
With a sli-array
In the coupe with a bitch array
In the coupe in the ci-ci-array
In the coupe I smoke for free
In the coupe with a mothafucka bitch
In the coupe with all my hitties
* a thot in the coupe yeah
See a * a thot in the coupe yeah
People wanna find that red
But I don't remember all that red
All that red
I'm gonna strike that ass All that red
I'm a whole lotta gang, yeah,
whole lotta gang *,
whole lotta ribbon and cake,
gotta feel a lotta pain,
a lotta bull *,
walking in screaming my name,
been my home, whole lotta bread, whole lotta guap in my hand,
whole lotta opps, tryna see young nigga dead,
nigga don't know me,
nigga cannot be my homie,
I'm the one who's been messing with your seeds,
nigga Just take it with you when you're home,
yeah And it's hot, a whole lotta state and *
Don't give it up,
now we gon' take it
I don't work with no one,
and I work with them guns
So you better bring your pen,
bitch I'm the one who told you to hop to the left,
huh Rise up and bang it,
yeah Put a hundred pieces in a bottle,
yeah And it's badder than battery,
yeah * it, I ain't a cool oldie
Got a pipe full of rain on me
* it, I ain't a cool oldie
Got a pipe full of rain on me
And I'm slurry And I cook with a bit of shirry
And I cook with a six-sorry And I cook with a tomfoolery
And I cook with a mothafuckin' And I cook with all my hands