What They Hittin' Foe?

Fucking around in a crap game
Niggas think I'm soft, 'cause now I'm in the rap game
Man, I don't hang out as much, bang out dope cuts
Standing on stage and I'm grabbing my nuts
But when it comes to getting in a circle
I'm hitting sevens, turning broke niggas purple
Looking for Little Joe and the dumb nigga scream and choke
When deuce-deuce hit the floor, yo!

Now which of ya wanna fade the 20?
I'm turnin' your fat pockets skinny
Oh yeah, I'm shaking the ivory
And boom, it's like they die for me
Fool, you can get loud, get mad, hit the joint
But don't forget my point
There it is, yo

I put my Nike on the bet, so it won't slide
Money gone 'cause I'm never hitting deuce-five
I'm never hitting four-trey, no way
You wanna leave, but come on, ho, stay
Nigga fever that'll work

Poppa needs brand-new shoes and a sweatshirt
Fool, you can't even fuck with that
And now that I'm winning, I got to get my gat
'Cause I see your homies starting to lookin' broke
Motherfuckers, they make the best crooks
And I'm feeling like a baller
Bucking fools now the circles getting smaller
Now you wanna go and scheme

Punk niggas like you just love to triple-team
So I pick up my money and start walking
'Cause now I let the gat start talking
Now since y'all lost you wanna go out like a sucker
Take that motherfuckers

Motherfucker
Ain't no motherfucker
Here we go, here we go
Hey, hey, wait, wait, wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a-