T.Y. (Rapper) - On The Bus lyrics

[Intro] Man n***a daydream about this sh** n***a. Even when a n***a was on a bus n***a was thinking about a Maybach n***a [Verse 1: TY] And these n***as ain't flossin', these n***as don't really be on that boss sh** They don't keep it real often, [?] Young n***a like me though, I keep it real, get money, f** hoes blow weed smoke Everywhere that we go we trying to hit a lick, [?] By myself I'll run through a whole zip You could tell when a n***a never had sh** Pa** the b**h after I hit just like some of the k**a I just twisted Master your deliverance, pack it up hit the block and get it in [?], One time for my n***as looking at 10 f** your b**h til she's short winded Take your blessings cus the lord sent it When it's war time we get suited and booted Old school but that b**h be moving Where I'm from you gotta pack you a toolie In Chopper City you can't be stupid I hit the block like [?] Posted up [?] [Verse 2: Le$] My screens fogged cus I'm coming up f** a punch line, I'll f** you up Mike Tyson you all welterweights, my sense is good but my life is great Them pockets straight cus I go and get it They go and spend it, I go and flip it Stay changing lanes, I swang and bang Like Damon Wayans I bring major pain Now pop that titty outcha mouth boy, Jet life we the new hot boys n***as always saying that they jumping off the porch but you never even been up out the house boy That steak and shrimp I go get that Check instagram hoe I live that Straight independent, no advance, sold out shows boy I did that She inhaling that chronic, swear that p**y the bombest Gone off gin and that tonic, won't tell nobody I promise Got a cup full of that yellow and I mixed it up with that red Hit the city on slow motion still taking joints to my head Pulling up on your hoe n***a, how you stunt but you owe n***as Always say what they used to be I don't give a f** bout you old n***as This my time you better move around, f** your shop I'll shut it down These corny n***as is straight jokes, ain't sh** funny about yall clowns [Verse 3: Young Roddy] I go dumb, flow stupid, spit retarded, rep New Orleans A n***a turn a booth to a toilet, I take whatever the world offers Better yet turn a booth to a coffin, I'm breaking bread with my squadron Good Lord, Our Father, these n***as k**ing for Jordans I never been jealous of that, I got the game from my partner Trap phone like a hotline n***a, picked up like "place your order" Small city big dreams, lil homie doing big things Get rich or die trying, I'm getting paid by all means Go forwards for the money, I was running like a track team Or running from a Crown Vic, trying not to get pinched I used to trap by the trap house, but that was way back in '06 My cousin had 5 bricks and rolled around with a mack 10 Damn them n***as k** at will, but me man I'm just trying to chilly-chill And I ain't tryna live check to check, then be broke when I pay them bills Nope, homie don't play that Eat a slug like Diddy say take that I dive in that p**y where the safe at Was on the bus but I'm thinking about a Maybach [Verse 4: Cornerboy P] She like damn n***a you got 3 phones, a b**h can't get a text back? I'm like shut the f** up, I'm all out the plug and b**h I ain't get a pack yet n***a fronted me 1, I came back for 3 that's what the f** I call progress I got mouths to feed and excuses is some sh** we can't digest I'm in the streets going hard I even prayed to God for a better way Then my phone ring sh** n***a that's another play to make Out here with these hungry n***as eat your food won't even say grace n***as will k** you, carry your casket, look your mom dead in the face Nah n***a that's ether, I still ride around with grams behind the speaker Fresh sneakers, I used to beg the [?] for adidas I'm fly as Easter, I was cutting cla** with the seniors More cash than the teachers, like what the f** you gonna teach me? b**h I got cash flow you only understand if you got cash flow I got mad hoes I don't ever put up with no mad hoes I got on 10 chains still grinding like I need 10 more And that's trill sh**, and they don't make real like this no more [Verse 5: Mr. Marcelo] OG, I always keep it 100 my n***a Lil boys need to call me pops the way I be sonning these n***as I been in these streets on top since n***as had rocks in the matchbox I been had lawyers on speed dial so they'll eat the case like [?] Big bucks no whammies, FM no jamming [?] never been no DJ but I always kept my cannon Little dude but my heart big and I always did get it out the mud Sometimes I get it off the muscle, other times I get it off the love I know a few bloods and a few crips so I keep [?] exclusive But when you see me I'm solo, 1 gun a few clips Gangsta's paradise I get a [?] then I'll pa** it on I'm a little n***a with big money and Ima have mine when yours all gone I be on my bumpy sh**, in the streets tryna make like a mil a day Hit the hood, smoking good and I'll probably give away like 100k The feds say that I'm a big fish like [?] in his prime These little n***as ain't getting no dollars so they be dropping dimes OG