LYRIC

When shit get's hostile hoes get blasted
Bodies in the morgue getting shelved like Pac Div
Tell my girl I'm running late, stuck in drug traffic
By the ten, two ten's in the Wagoneer
Nigga picture me rolling, all my bitches is stolen
So I mean it when I say that hoes hot as a stove top
Chrome Glock and the gold D-Block Chain
That I won from J Hood in a pick-up game
Feeling like I'm Reggie Lewis, shit I'll probably die a shooter vic
Run my mouth a lot, run up in a nigga's house to shop
Treating bitches like it's Camelot, feed 'em out the trough
Asher Roth, disappearing white's, slanging half the price
Never that, you see my nigga's way ahead of that
Zordon big headed, strong arm bench Press 'em
Been through hell and back so my heart's been tested
Ain't willing to die your heart's in question, nigga

Added by

Admin

SHARE

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

ADVERTISEMENT