Red Cafe - Squad A Hittaz lyrics

(Hook) My n***as is up, my n***as is up Livin’ the life, livin’ the life, I’m lightin’ it up We’re lightin’ it up, we’re lightin’ it up I got a squad a hittaz, I got a squad a hittaz I got a squad a hittaz, I got a squad a hittaz We got all the money and the baddest b**hes I got a squad a hittaz, I got a squad a hittaz I got a squad a hittaz, I got a squad a hittaz I got a pound a smoke, errnight we winnin’ I got a squad a hittaz (Verse: Jim Jones) I got the mobbin’ n***as, I got the hardest n***as I got my Harlem n***as (15) You like SP3 Verse steps, so ya know ya can’t guard me, n***a I was shaking up the pie with a rock like the n***a in the garden, n***a I’m like a god to n***as, I’m like Ghandi, n***a I got the baddest b**hes, they rock Lou Vuitton And Valentino shoes and every bag is vicious I’m talkin’ Berkley bags, they only rock Channel I mean cash business (where the money at) So f** the hate and get some cash with us And buy Rollie watches (sky dwellers) So the hoes can jock us, and the foes gon’ watch us like (Hook) (Verse 2: Red Cafe) I got it fo’ the low, I got a Primo Whole squad stick it to the G code I don’t do small talk, straight drug talk Woke up with a mission, get the d** on I done whip fish scale in the fish tank I’mma have my big bank take lil bank n***as said all money ain’t good money 250 for the zone, that’s good money Street n***a push weight, no bowflex We done seen bloody, no cotex Ain’t summer, bring the drops and the bikes out Let’s keep it 100, we the n***as right now f** the law, get money, use the money to make more money Pray for me to make more money Cuz if I lose, I’m taking yo money (Hook) (Verse 3: Jim Jones) I done payed the dues, even made the news Stayed down and I played the rules Hotel suits with the crazy views And all praises do, buck 20, let the Mercedes cruise Take one brick and make it two Then get a real b**h that’ll take ya through, like Work! I take trips to the beach just see how the water feel And if you talking money, between the wrist and the whip That’s at least like a quarter mill, ya see sum’ funny I got a young boy that’ll hit you up just for the thrill And that’s all mine, half these n***as all faking a** on the real (Hook)