21:42 (Feat. Bris)
Young Slo-Be
3:09(Sparky made it slap, nigga) Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee, nigga Ruler on me, Mr. Slo-Be, I'll teach niggas Niggas foul, niggas always tryna reach, nigga Side talker, sidewalker, hop in the streets, nigga Lil' bitch, gon' fuck it up Doin' all that talkin', nigga damn near got his bitch fucked Big dog, nigga, but I'll be damned if I got my tail tucked Ooh-wee, I'm on the block, nigga, can't you tell? On a Monday, nigga Ayy, cuddy broke the scale Tryna weigh two pounds, fucked up the count, nigga almost failed On a Tuesday, nigga Ayy, I give you taco shells Walk around this bitch bored, let's go drop somethin' All my niggas gettin' money, send a package down the way When this chopper hit his ass, watch him do the Harlem Shake Never see you in the kitchen, boy, you hardly movin' weight Holdin' up that lil' chain in them pictures, boy, it's fake Spin your block, now it's wrapped in yellow tape Juvie with the tooly, Durk and Trey, them my snakes Manu Ginóbili, a sharp shooter, free my ape Niggas talkin' 'bout ballin', let me know where your pape' Book me for a show, we ain't worried, we got Drac' Told my daughter watch my soda, she know daddy sippin' drank Boy, this pop mixed with yola, play your cards, ace of spade Two hundred on the dash, I'm sick niggas tryna race Ain't no question, guaranteed I'ma turn up Brodie keep torch, I just point, he gon' burn somethin' I ain't seen brodie in a while, this like the third summer Slappin' don dada with the shottas, got the curb jumpin' If I shoot, brodie, he gon' shoot, this shit vice versa Mad face, holdin' on the Drac', ain't no nice person Quick to slap a bitch, watch your lips, I'm like Ike Turner Ooh-wee, nah, this ain't nothin' new Joc gon' act an ass in the 'Cat 'cause he up a few Speakin' on my name to the bitch, that's what suckers do Thirty-eight hold six shots, that shit hella cute Ayy, ayy, nigga, but it's too small Too much beef, can't fit 'em all in a U-Haul She was actin' stingy with the pack, I cut boo off He a bitch, half stick on him, but let two off Ayy, half stick, but let two off Ayy, the Glock got gonorrhea, 'cause the dick burnin' I have them shooters hit your block, I be Big Wormin' Big pole on my waist, got my hip hurtin' And your hood was ghost town, but we ain't quit lurkin' Your bitch ass in the house, you a housewife And I be outside, they freed Bris from that count time I'm really 'bout mine Stackin' bands, look, the amount climbin' Tryna outshine But bullets rippin' through the house blinds And these niggas lil' dogs, real ankle biters This chopper drop an elephant like a tranquilizer This K a lighter, let it spark, who wanna play with fire? Yeah, True Story be the gang, I really hate a liar Do the dash in this whip, man, it's in sport-plus If you wanna knock him down, aim that torch up We gon' jump out his bushes when his door shut 40 by the air conditioner, keep the blower tucked (Sparky made it slap)