(*talking*)
Gotta walk it out Rogers, this for my Southside n***as mayn
You know I'm hearing the rumors mayn
They say that ain't where I'm from, I'm hearing the rumors
But I'ma do this one for Dead End n***a, that's right run it
[Kyleon]
I'm from that Dead End area, where them n***as'll bury ya
Run up with a danger, put one in your darrier
Still selling oil, like I'm Bush and them terrorists
And got that white, locking like a pitbull terrier
I'm addicted to the game, that's my b**h I might marry her
Diamonds on that ring finger, made her my Beyonce
k**a gotta eat, getting money is my entree
Pocket full of chips, block hotter than Picante
Some say game over, miss me with that Flip sh**
I need's mine, so I'm cooking crack up like it's Bisquick
And no I don't miss licks, I got the block on DVR
Call me Marlowe, I give a dead block CPR
Corner boy, spit fire through the wire
n***as claim to be the truth, but I am they just liars
Hand on that guac', and I'm gripping like pliers
Getting drunk I'm round the club, like fliers highest
Head Honcho, still getting work from Poncho
I'm making cash money, so you know I'm finna stunt hoe
Money talk but I'm quiet, bullsh** irrelevant
f** with my bread, and get a bullet through your skeleton
Juggle green genie, with the insides elephant
Candy paint wet, so you know I'm fish tailing it
Hit a block with a block, I'm fish scaling it
And yeah I got em for cheap, you need it I'm selling it
[Hook]
Y'all n***as, ain't talking bout nothing
If you don't make money, the topic of your discussion
My n***a, what is y'all saying
DJ, what the f** is you playing
I hear them n***as talking loud, but they ain't saying sh**
I guess that's why the DJ, ain't playing sh**
My n***a, what is y'all saying
DJ, what the f** is you playing