[Intro: A-Wax]
Yeah, yeah, Wax
[Chorus: A-Wax]
I just talked her into trusting me again, fu*k it up
Let a 'op go with his b*tch riding in that Benz, fu*k it up
fu*k this taste, I'd like to pull out twenty bands, fu*k it up
Drop it low, now shake it standing on your hands, fu*k it up
fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it up
fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it up
fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it up
fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it up
[Verse 1: A-Wax]
People used to say that rap sh*t ain't gon' get you far
I'ma keep the killers fed, that funky b*tch can starve
Empty shells and backwood roaches, them's my business cards
Took a gulp on accident, woah, that sh*t hit me hard
fu*k a room, come top me off in this [?] booth
She said she wanna be my b*tch, I said of course you do
Had a shoot out in the B and had to torch it new
[?] I ain't get to count the foreign, boom
Trapping, drop a hundred rounds off in their cul-de-sac
Your b*tch wrote me in the pin, I never wrote her back
This sh*t ain't no mid pack, we smoking golden grahams
Had a op b*tch bust it open on my only fans
[Chorus: A-Wax]
I just talked her into trusting me again, fu*k it up
Let a 'op go with his b*tch riding in that Benz, fu*k it up
fu*k this taste, I'd like to pull out twenty bands, fu*k it up
Drop it low, now shake it standing on your hands, fu*k it up
fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it up
fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it up
fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it up
fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it up
[Verse 2: King Iso]
Yeah, that b*tch try'na be my Future, think she Sylvia Brown
ni**as once were at the table with us, on the menu now
Turn that whole table red, Big Willie style
When I up that chopper, fu*k it up, get it, I kill the clown
Take that hoe and flip the b*tch like whipping when you spin it 'round
They knocked off your partner like an ammo lick, they still around?
The irony of all these gyms on me when I'm lifting pounds
Forest chicken, counting every hen I see like liquor rounds
Yeah, they saying it's up 'til we sit 'em down
Chop, leave 'em screwed, call the swisher house
You broke, need a favor to figure out?
I ain't got it, but just ran up fifty-thou'
Since a young buck, only bank's I had was a shoe-box, better rent a couch
b*tch said she don't trust me, next week I'm in her house, and ni**a wow
[Chorus: A-Wax]
I just talked her into trusting me again, fu*k it up
Let a 'op go with his b*tch riding in that Benz, fu*k it up
fu*k this taste, I'd like to pull out twenty bands, fu*k it up
Drop it low, now shake it standing on your hands, fu*k it up
fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it up
fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it up
fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it up
fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it up