CuBeatz - THat Part (The Late Show Performance) lyrics

[Intro: "Groovy Tony"] Blank Face, tre 8, k** everybody, f** an AK Sell narcotics and step my dollars up to Bill Gates Push all limits, you lookin' timid, need to back off Punk-a** cops, them crackers want us with our black off Thug life n***a since '96 I wanted to gang bang Few years later I'm really from it, we were still kids Crack off n***a, I'm squeezing empty 'til the shell break f** my image I need to drop, I need to, Blank Face [Spoken] July 8th [Hook] Me no conversate with the fake, that part All my b**hes independent b**hes, that part I just want the paper, that part All my b**hes flavored That part, that part, that part, that part [Post-Hook] Ayy! That part Bang this sh** in the hood one time Lil b**h I'm back and poppin' Tell that ugly b**h to move away, I need more options Broke? Then fix your pockets, all I do is profit [Verse 1: ScHoolboy Q] Quarter million, switchin' lanes... that part Bet my b**h move the same old thing... that part 405 with the gun off safety... that part Ayy I'm still tryna make that plate Rich or poor, n***a, choose your fate Style on top of style, n***a Five years I've been rich, n***a Drove Beamers down Fig, n***a Pushed Porsches down Broadway I've been doggin' different hoes, n***a Got a chain that's worth the Rolls, n***a Got an engine back with the top in it n***a drivin' it like it's a bomb in it [Hook] Me no conversate with the fake, that part All my b**hes independent b**hes, that part I just want the paper, that part All my b**hes flavored That part, that part, that part, that part [Post-Hook] Ayy! That part Bang this sh** in the hood one time Lil b**h I'm back and poppin' Tell that ugly b**h to move away, I need more options Broke? Then fix your pockets, all I do is profit [Verse 2] Made a mil' then I spent it in the same day Brought a chopper, not the AK Getting money on a vacay Couple ranges in the driveway Groovy Tony in July, 8th Yeah, I'm k**ing kitties on a Sunday How you balling in a Hond-ay? Paparazzi got a toothpaste Swerve in the big body Your favorite artist, I'm his big homie Yeah I'm walking with a fifth I ain't folk, I'mma crip homie Where the bloods? Where the locs at? Where the bud? Where the choke brown? Gloves for the combat How the feds in your contacts? How the feds in my set name? Move smooth in a Mulsanne Hard dread in the rap game Heard Soulo coming up next And SZA got a cla**ic, uh I heard Zay just got it mastered The fire burning through the plastic Some fingers to the badges They don't love us to 'til the racks involved When I was broke, they wouldn't accept the call Now they on me for my decimals Blank faces, gotta X 'em off Enemies, gotta bob and weave Gang banging like you said "what's up?" And the set getting k**ed for nothing Felonies, so I steal for my daughter to eat Hoover Street, the government for me Blank Face, hey! [Hook] Me no conversate with the fake, that part All my b**hes independent b**hes, that part I just want the paper, that part All my b**hes flavored That part, that part, that part, that part