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(Verse) You think you baa but bitch, I’m better I’m you high, you need a ladder Chopper, bullets in my matter, and your dreams you gotta shatter Mama told me ‘bout my manners, found my weed and went bananas Told me leave, I got no handles Took my piece and my bandana (Verse) I am so Louisiana, country talk is in my grammar Play me conference, play me cameras, this white chocolate is the slammer Niggas bark and get the hammers The result is an example of a nigga with no ammo He got crowded, he jam-o (Verse) I play chances with my barrels, around these snakes without parole Only deep I got his cattle, if I got it I don’t tattle Be like I was in Seattle, bitch you know I like to travel I don’t own a double barrel, I was by own Kadaro (Hook x2) Hey oh, hey oh As I’m rockin, I know you watchin You know I’m ridin, that’s why you hidin From Letras Mania