Lor Tinka - Lifestyle (Remix) lyrics

Lor Tinka Yall know wa**up Dis da remix [Hook] Chasin n***as Poppin b**hes Roastin chickens Yeah, you know thats our lifestyle Think its the fame Hop into my lane Make it a game We'll do that sh** right now I hate b**hes Phoney b**hes Whinin sayin what they want We gonna walk off laughin at her a** Like hell nahh Girl you wild [Verse 1] Young n***a get ready We comin in heavy I got my manz inna kitchen He gonna get that sh** ready He gotta whip up da mix Dont wanna f** up his wrist Mother actin lor funny Im like thats what she gets Man his mothers a cript Leave that blood on his tip If someone plays with her baby Man that lady will trip Ain't no way he will slip Cuz he stay on his sh** n***as post up on our block Then we makin 'em skip People like Tink how thats your block Why you say thats you sh** Thats where I played hot-cakes, hide-n-seek, and IT'S Member when we saw that phone Took his a** in that split Face beat Now he can't get a nice lookin pic Left his a** right there like he had fell on his sh** Hop scotch I promise you that you'll get hopped in this b**h I got my homeboys ready They tryin ta hit They like wa**up Lor sis Juss give me that clip [Hook] Chasin n***as Poppin b**hes Roastin chickens Yeah, you know thats our lifestyle Think its the fame Hop into my lane Make it a game We'll do that sh** right now I hate b**hes Phoney b**hes Whinin sayin what they want We gonna walk off laughin at her a** Like hell nahh Girl you wild [Verse 2] When he first turned 12 they told him watch the corner Holla at Mook Hit the corner store inna morning Try ta post up on our BR Member whos on it Before it gets late Cuz you can't come back when your gone We throwin fists for Black Nd poppin b**hes for Mom When we think about Munch We bust a bullet for Dom We do this Pop a n***a Make it into a song Ain't got no lists so Im provin you wrong My brova said he made me Cuz Im all about it He'll shoot ya That's that n***a that said whats the matter Burned the block wit a 4-th Had they a** sick When you saw it You keept you mouth shut like it never happened Sound like a missle I made it crumble like powder My brova got a 4-5th Keep that gun on his hip They'll run in ya whip Dive off like its ours They told me they got me Cuz they know that Im bout it [Hook] Chasin n***as Poppin b**hes Roastin chickens Yeah, you know thats our lifestyle Think its the fame Hop into my lane Make it a game We'll do that sh** right now I hate b**hes Phoney b**hes Whinin sayin what they want We gonna walk off laughin at her a** Like hell nahh Girl you wild