YBN Nahmir

Ca$hland
I'm a trip mode, Cashland wearin' motherfucker Niggas look over this way, I swear to God they ain't gon' touch on My cash, get it out your bitch if it come down to it Got her hands feelin' on my— think she finna chew it 'Bout my game, you know what it is, leave you in a ditch Last summer nigga scored a point, then he got switched By the team, I'm gon' blow brains, don't need no assist Ain't no talkin', we be back-to-back, they know what it is I'm through that east and I'm just with the guys You know I got that four-five, so don't be surprised I had to slow down on that shootin' 'cause your shooter telling shit A nigga playing with my bread, okay, we got them toasters, bitch See, this nineteen-eleven'll put a bitch up in a casket Act like you trippin', but I ain't slipping up in traffic .40, it's on me, I get to knocking down your homies The beef it get funky, and I can't let no nigga smoke me Take a trip out to the beach, Will and Scotty Deblor I don't even gotta talk 'cause off the rip he a savage I be in the North Pole with a pole, living lavash Told my lil' cousin Manny we need chicken and cabbage Low, tryna hit the road, ducking from police Turned on a back street, ditched the stolie All of the sudden, my niggas coming, shut the whole fuckin' city down Them bands up on the 'Gram, but got 'em tucked when we come around Letras de cancionesI'm a trip mode, Cashland wearin' motherfucker Niggas look over this way, I swear to God they ain't gon' touch on My cash, get it out your bitch if it come down to it Got her hands feelin' on my— think she finna chew it I'm a trip mode, Cashland wearin' motherfucker Niggas look over this way, I swear to God they ain't gon' touch on My cash, get it out your bitch if it come down to it Got her hands feelin' on my— think she finna chew it I'm a ganged up individual, but I don't be talking to no killers I be strained up with medicinal blow and big broccoli cigarillos When I'm waking up to a wake and bake at the early crack of dawn I grab my shoebox and proceed to roll up me some lime My uncle told me that as long you live, don't you ever be no punk Be ready for altercations and unexpected funk Think wisely and plan out your plot before you go to war Don't send no amateur, send someone that got down before When you growing griz, it gotta go through its ugly stage Dead homies tatted on me to calm down my pain and rage These bitches all on me, they say that I do not age The home protection that I choose is a Mossberg 500 gauge I'm a trip mode, Cashland wearin' motherfucker Niggas look over this way, I swear to God they ain't gon' touch on My cash, get it out your bitch if it come down to it Got her hands feelin' on my— think she finna chew it I'm a trip mode, Cashland wearin' motherfucker Niggas look over this way, I swear to God they ain't gon' touch on My cash, get it out your bitch if it come down to it Got her hands feelin' on my— think she finna chew it As a youngster I never knew nothing Just a bad-ass kid chasin' hoes, getting money I was straight down and dirty, got the game from the pimps Eleven years old going hard on a bitch (Hard on a bitch) Bitches walking down the street trying to get my grip Everything she get, nigga, that's my shit (Gimme that) I set up shop, a million dollar spot And all my bitches ran the whole damn block (My bitch) You choose me, we 'bout to switch the plan If you playin', bitch, you goin' back to your man But if you stayin', you need to meet my other bitch You ain't cool with her, you can't fuck with this I'm a trip mode, Cashland wearin' motherfucker Niggas look over this way, I swear to God they ain't gon' touch on My cash, get it out your bitch if it come down to it Got her hands feelin' on my— think she finna chew it I'm a trip mode, Cashland wearin' motherfucker Niggas look over this way, I swear to God they ain't gon' touch on My cash, get it out your bitch if it come down to it Got her hands feelin' on my— think she finna chew it From Letras Mania