Ran up 20 fucking bands in a week
I don't think about sleep
I just think about that bread
And that cake and that cream
Pie shawty want that but I'm thinking bout me
I got shit up in this phone that the feds can't see
If they tap it then it's wraps
I get bows tracked for me
Pack that boy up in a van
Aint no human trafficking
Pin-drop MIKE FROST
When i'm touching on this green
Shoot this fucking party up
It ain't no room for my team
Real lucid dreams
I'm talking real lucid dreams
I got that money on my mind
In my spine I hear a ching
Bet I shoot em' through this pillow
So these folks wont hear a thing
You like talking like a bitch
But that way yea I don't swing
Break it down the middle with my 7s
Aint nobody else
I know that his soul in hell but
Who know where his body at
Plastic bag weed
Boy yo shit look like a sloppy mess
Argue with yo bitch
I fuck my bitch up out a body dress
Ran up 20 fucking bands in a week
I dont think about sleep
I just think about that bread
And that cake and that cream
Pie shawty want that but im thinking bout me
I got shit up in this phone that the feds can't see
If they tap it then it's wraps
I get bows tracked for me
Pack that boy up in a van
Aint no human trafficking
Pin-drop MIKE FROST
When i'm touching on this green
Shoot this fucking party up
It ain't no room for my team
Switching out the Glocks for the Taurus they boring
Why you stand in Harm's Way you know you cant ignore
Listen to yo momma boy you better do them chores
Strapped up like the 80's got artillery in floor beds
Scoring on PTs just like PGs
Everyday is buckets
I might slap the uber driver
He don't get my luggage
If yo gut get fucked up
Quick then you better go trust it
E20 SRT keep pushing
Why he keep on rushing