Man, fuck that, fuck that Metro in this bitch goin' brazy (yeah)
Comin' out of jonesboro south (ayy) Nigga havin' golds all through they mouth, yeah Lifetime goals (woo) , runnin' through the roof (wha'?) Pullin' out the ghost (grah) , make a nigga poof (grah) Niggas talkin' shit but what is it to do? I knew his big homie, nigga, and I got the proof (woo) My spot is a army base and I got the proof (what up?) Send my bitch on vacay, put her in a coupe
Change the channel I don't wanna see none these pussy niggas (nah) I've been fuckin' niggas' bitches and gettin' plenty figures On the road to riches and got the realest with us Slaughter gang wit' me, nigga, knives, not a scissors Street nigga with a bunch of lives like a tiger (yeah) Y'all niggas just a bunch of dykes fuckin' niggas Nigga told and hе was my homie, I can't miss him Ain't nobody feel him Tell me what you seen, what you saw I donе ran it up, I'm guessin' which broad I'ma take her home tonight I'm tryna see who I'm takin' home tonight I seen a jawn gettin' shot at the light (yeah-yeah) They got to arguin' over new crack pipe (yeah-yeah-yeah) I call the seamstress, my pants ain't tight enough None of my bitches tell me I'm not man enough What the fuck wrong with these broke-ass niggas? Yeah (yeah) I told 'em: Tear it down I'ma thank you, pocket watchin', don't look at my pants now My diamonds louder than the fuckin' ambulance now Asked the bitch from the sidelines: Stand down Runnin' through the projects, duckin' all the frauds, yeah Got a nine in my pocket and not in my drawls Take off like a rocket with thirteen broads (yeah) It's in the attic, put the racks in the walls (yeah) No need to talk to me, I'm big dawg (yeah) I roll the windows up (yeah) and now they knowin' us I'm no beginner, yeah, I got my stain up I told her: Giddy up We ran the train on her
Comin' out of jonesboro south (ayy) Nigga havin' golds all through they mouth, yeah Lifetime goals (woo) , runnin' through the roof (wha'?) Pullin' out the ghost (grah) , make a nigga poof (grah) Niggas talkin' shit but what is it to do? I knew his big homie, nigga, and I got the proof (woo) My spot is a army base and I got the proof (what up?) Send my bitch on vacay, put her in a coupe
If young metro don't trust you, I'm gon' shoot you Metro
Compositores: Josef A Powell (Josef Powell), Arthur R Posey, Leland Tyler Wayne, Jeffery Lamar Williams, Robert Bell ECAD: Obra #45764399