1,2,3
(Foenem Radio, on BD)
(Sosa on the beat)
Mic check (one, two, three)
For war, I bought fighter jets, I bought (one, two, three)
I got thirty, but I'ma give his ass (one, two, three)
I don't get one pound of gas, I get (one, two, three)
Baby say her body count ain't ten, it's (one, two, three)
She was suckin' before I got to count (one, two, three)
How many M's in one bank account? (One, two, three)
I got nine cars, but I brought out (one, two, three)
I always believed I was gon' get paid
When I got to hustlin' up in sixth grade
You ain't givin' up that nigga, you won't get laid
Sleep for the weak, I been up for six days
She seen my car, said, "Oh, Lord"
Two houses and got money up in both floors
Go, Forrest, leave your ass in the old forest
If I fall, bitch, I'm landin' on all fours
I don't fuck with pigs, so I don't eat pork
Give me crooked-ass smiles, make your teeth warped
Will he land? Sosa flyer than an airport
I got one big gun, fuck an Air Force
Lambo' whiter than some Air Forces
Check my closet, bitch, it look like a damn endorsement
You don't want the gang input, we got sources
One thing I really hate is when a bitch force it
Off the shits, feel like I'm levitatin'
I was trappin' outta granny basement
Me and money can't be separated
Me and diamonds, we been havin' babies
I got paper for the demonstration
Hotbox the whip, what a ventilation
Police pull me over, I can tell they hatin'
I got pink slips, license, pink slips, license, and registration
Always knew I was the one made outta gold
Always knew I was the one to make it out the 'Go
And my heart real heavy like a centerfold
Sosa, who the fuck you trust more? Friend or foe?
I ain't even gotta think, I don't trust both
That's why I got my pole tucked for the cutthroat
He ain't gang, I don't trust that nigga, fuck no
I got a .44 Bulldog, nigga, you a mutt, though
I got one, two, three shark-heads in the nick'
Chief Sosa pull strings, nigga, but he don't knit
I paid one, two, three thousand dollars for these kicks
Gon' play, give your ass, one, two, three kicks (one, two, three)
Four, five, six (one, two, three)
Friend group of six, I fucked (one, two, three)
Nigga, that ain't my bitch, I got (one, two, three)
If I rent three cars, I still got (one, two, three)
Brought four cases back, but I got (one, two, three)
How many stashes do the Track' got? (One, two, three)
Everybody give it up for the Black guy (one, two, three)
Huh?
Round of applause when she make that ass clap
I push her head down like I'm tellin' her to take a nap
Hundred-dollar bill as my towel in the bath
House on the sand, I can carve out a path
Baby tried to rip my damn heart out, I laughed
Work a bitch out, now she weak, what's a calf?
She just pushed a baby out, she workin' on her abs
Told her at my house is a gym, yeah, I have
Told her two plus one equals three, simple math
I should take my Lambo' and disguise it as a cab
Stick hit your ribs, now your ribs have a slab
Up the 40, put that bitch up on you like a tab
Check my Lambo', bitches crawlin' like a crab
Bitch, don't get it twisted, I'll drive it through a crowd
Grocery store the only time I'm walkin' up the aisle
I take that back, just give me a bitch that ain't got many miles
It's show time (one, two, three)
I bow my head, pray, and count to (one, two, three)
I don't buy one or two, I bought like one, two, three
I'm top five and I'm in the first one, two, three
Hail Mary, nigga, hut, one, two, three
Five star, and the average shit one through three
Thirty stick finna piece one, two, three
All this motherfuckin' energy, this run through me
I bow my head, pray, and count to
It's show time
I bow my head, pray, and count to (one, two, three)
Hail Mary, nigga, hut, one, two, three
Five star, and the average shit one through three
Thirty stick finna piece one, two, three
All this motherfuckin' energy, this run through me
It's show time
I bow my head, pray, and count to
I don't buy one or two, I bought like one, two, three
(I bow my head, pray, and count to)
(I bow my head, pray, and count to)
(I bow my head, pray, and count to)