Gonzoe - I Got it Made lyrics

[Gonzoe] (talking) Uh-oh, (uh-oh) here it go again (here it go) Oh f**! (oh sh**) sh**, shake that sh** b**h Huh, (yeah) yeah, it's me, Gonzoe Came to rock you mother f**ers right quick You know what I'm sayin? Kick that thesoline Know what I'm sayin [Verse 1 - Gonzoe] n***a, I'm tryin to have it made f**in with mink and suede Hoppin out of jags on n***as When me sh** parfait Like Livarache Hoe, smell the heats of meakee I'm too co*ky My life's too rocky So f** y'all n***a pissy off with me You separate all It means nothin I talk your b**h out the drawls For the f** of it And turp off bumpin It's in the shed Bounce to this Cause you feelin it Respect me k**in it n***a I'mma be that rich cat Tell them n***as where I hold my chips and whips at I'm a young n***a never found guilty Clean as f** but still filthy Workers on the corners tryin to milk me For knowledge Like 'Damn! you smashin in college?' Big a** glots and keepin dollars Don't bother choppin work no more I hit the liquor store Relax with a gla** of conyac and smoke n***a [Chorus - Gonzoe] I got it made! (got it made) f**in with mink and suede (mink and suede) All my pieces par made b**h, I'm doin this sh** my way (my way) b**h, all us n***as we got it made I'm paid, f**in with mink and suede Hoppin out of jags on n***as (us) When me sh** bumpay Like liverache Hoe, smell the heats of meakee (hoe) I'm too co*ky My ice too rocky So f** y'all [Verse 2 - Gonzoe] Uh, it's too much money to me Y'all n***as is actin fake Playa-hatin, talkin up on my sh** like Ricki Lake Comin chili's for hoes Why you lyin bout who you know? Stay broke, never got no ervails on the smoke, lock the timmy Foo, you k**in me, actin phony Sittin on your cake with a round of homies, you're pretty tony Gettin worked, cochberts, Versace, Domeinberg What you bought is what she wear when she go do dirt The truth hurt All the same With no backs to claim But you slept because it was all part of the game Chorus [Verse 3 - Gonzoe] Yeah, y'all n***as can't touch me I'm spotless, you dusty My pistol crusty All the n***as I wet They all trust me Till the federals bust me Out for the dusty Gangsta like Bugsy Livin lavish up in luxury The Bombay, Mr.Icicle Come swallow the pickle Us dons all stressed and rippled It ain't a thing Tryin to find this game man Stack up for the drought Cause one day it's gonna rain In big drops Cop, blind side of my Cyclops As it bubble, I watch the pattern transform To rocks n***a, going to Glocks, money in stacks Cause he got this, and I got that (what)