Lyrics
He was the druglord of East
Oakland who made twenty
To thirty thousands dollars a
Day selling narcotics
In a slum "He cool, he real cool i
Like the way he died you know
He died in style"
When you from where I'm from you
Look up to Craig Petties
Trappin' out a four door
Bordervilles and Box Chevies
I might score a hundred just
To turn into a Bentley
If that traphouse boomin' you can
Probably catch me in it, ayy
You ain't got the money and
You wanna get fronted
Okay leave your mama address
And her phone number
Shut the spot down, switch it up
We been doin' numbers
Cussed my bitch out then lost fifty pounds
That's bad karma
Smoked a blunt off lemon tree and
Ate some fish and grit's
Gave her a quarter mil and she
Jumped on the plane at six
Everything went smooth
I treat myself and up my wrist
All I think is hustling even
When I take a piss
Couple hundred thousand in a shoebox
And I got a couple choppers in my toolbox
Dope boy, all white, party on the yacht
(it's Dolph) man this shit too good to be
True, I need to stop, ayy
Pack touched down, I just took off, uh
You shawty, I just call the boss
Bust down, now I'm tryna hit the block
Fifty for my watch, keep a Glock like a cop
Pack touched down, I just took off, uh
You shawty, I just call the boss
Bust down, now I'm tryna hit the block
Fifty for my watch, keep a Glock like a cop
In my city we push weed and that cream
Fly money back and forth
The DEA they search my things
I bought a Porsche this morning, I was bored
So much cash I bought a
Stashhouse just to store it
You don't get no love out here
You get extorted
On Monday my phone going crazy taking orders
They need me by the borders
I ship it out to Florida
I'm the man in California
Half a million to my lawyers
Michael Corleone Blanco, flew me out to Haco
I'm in Costa Rica having
Million dollar convos
Them suckers get they head bust
Not the friends I can't trust
Talking all crazy
Bulletholes in your Benz truck
Yeah they say dead or in
Prison's how we end up
Shit I could give two fucks
I got my bread up, yeah
I'm riding through the city smoking snowman
How many drug dealers become an old man?
Pack touched down, I just took off, uh
You shawty, I just call the boss
Bust down, now I'm tryna hit the block
Fifty for my watch, keep a Glock like a cop
Pack touched down, I just took off, uh
You shawty, I just call the boss
Bust down, now I'm tryna hit the block
Fifty for my watch, keep a Glock like a cop
Masked up
Then you got a better chance of living
Cause if I'm barefaced kid
It's according to how I'm feeling
All my life I want a million
But I will accept a brick or board
Shot up a nigga's house mane
For tryna sneak your boy
I'm blacker than a Reese's, cat too you mices
Moving lames out the way
This draco telekinesis
Hustle 'til I'm dead, the money never ceases
Revolver to his skull
His drawers smell like feces
Black girl mixed would never hold
Keys to a tepees smokin' on my peace pipe
While on her knees-es
Talkin' work over the phone
Like talkin' to police-s get indicted
Need a bitch out here with knee like
Slick moves with the sick jewels
Foreign rides make your bitch choose
With a pimp, cruise through the neighborhood
I wish a nigga would
I'm pullin up that Berner
AK-47, and I'm unload the burner
Pack touched down, I just took off, uh
You shawty, I just call the boss
Bust down, now I'm tryna hit the block
Fifty for my watch, keep a Glock like a cop
Pack touched down, I just took off, uh
You shawty, I just call the boss
Bust down, now I'm tryna hit the block
Fifty for my watch, keep a Glock like a cop
WRITERS
GILBERT ANTHONY JR MILAM, OJ DA JUICEMAN, PROJECT PAT, YOUNG DOLPH
PUBLISHERS
Lyrics © Royalty Network
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