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Lyric provided by www.seekalyric.com |
[Verse 1] Uh, In the kitchen goin' ham again F*ckin' with dem birds like Cam and dem I'll tell you what's the word when the tan is in We dem n*ggas on the curb with dem hammers and Whole brick throw it on a triple beam It get hectic we gon' stretch it like a limousine Ain't no question if I touch it then it's Mr.Clean I be reppin' in yo' section me my n*gga Keem Ghost boys, in a ghost n*gga I burn bread I ain't talkin' toast n*gga Whole team of killers, I'm the coach n*gga Presidential on my wrist, now take ya votes n*gga Rookie of the year, cookies in the rear I got some bad b*tches that'll get it there If you don't wanna get it we gon send 'em there If it's heavy then Omelly comin' in a Lear Bricksquad, like Waka and dem If it's Gucci like D. Howard get a block for dem I don't touch I just leave it up to Tock and dem Meek Mill started wasn't chopper we was poppin' den [Hook] Lean wit it, rock wit it Throw some bake up in the pot wit' it Microwave or we gon' we gon' pot whip it When it get right we drop that ice and make it lock wit' it I tell em lean wit it, rock wit' it Throw some bake up in the pot wit' it Microwave or we gon' we gon' pot whip it When it get right we drop that ice and make it lock wit' it, ughh! [Verse 2] I made a million off a mixtape N*gga get ya shit straight I'm sellin' that raw shit, you sellin' that whip weight Cookin' up a whole bird until I make my wrist ache When I pulled up to the club you should've seen ya b*tch face, ughh! Fitfy cash in my pocket N*gga, I got the stash in my pocket I'm blowin' money fast in my pocket Said it's lookin' like I got Nicki ass in my pocket Talkin' ass ass ass ass, all I get is cash cash Club lit my last tag, could've bought a fast Jag The way these b*tches wavin' at me, you would think a cab passed Wondered why you hatin on me, n*gga wit 'cho mad ass Rollie on me cost a whole brick Killers with me ain't go no pics These groupie b*tches ain't got no sense So we make a movie on dem b*tches no script [Hook] [Verse 3] Thirty-six treat it like a dirty b*tch Cuz I hit it and then send it to the other strip Call me anything don't call me by my government Cuz when I'm out 'chea in the jungle we be sellin' bricks Half these n*ggas in my hood be on some tellin' shit We be on some if you snitchin' crack ya melon shit If I ain't rockin' with the Smith its Parabellum shit Papi bring 'em on the boat they know we sellin' shit Lean wit' it, rock wit' it Posted Mac. 11 in the lot wit' it Seven fifty gettin' busy wit' a box in it So when they pull us over they don't find dem Glocks in it [Hook] |