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Hold up, you can't tell me no, but tell your friends to do the opposite Don't tell nobody, but I snuck a pole on board a private jet Every loaf I see, I think "Why ain't you in my pockets yet?" Cemetery full of people, ain't respect the politics I just wanna put it in her mouth, this bitch too talkative Them killers, I'ma put 'em on your house until you pop up there Sometimes I be thinking this twelve burping when my diamonds glare Found a homie [?] commissary, out Cheesy rice and ramen for a month or two I got some opps in jail, better gеt off if you running to 'em Big 'ol stack of blues, I ain't count 'em, I'm just thumbing through 'еm Shit was between us until that drug I sent a bone or two [?] on that syrup and exotic [?] If you so supportive of your homies, why you knock 'em then? If it's really up, what's your location on it then? Drop a pin Bitch I'm popping ops, not no Xanays or [?] Drip, check, blick, check That bitch, check, I'm getting checks Drip, check, Blick, check That bitch, check, I'm getting checks Check, check, check, check, check, check, check, check Check, check, check, check, check check, I run up a Check, check, check, check, check, check, check, check Check, check, check, check, check, check Letras de cancionesYou can't tell me no bitch, your best friend would do the opposite Mask up like a non-obmissive, you don't respect politics I got two hoes kissing, one on top, other my bottom bitch My young boys will turn a nigga block into the Gaza strip My guys just walked in the strip club and I bought a bitch Swear to God, my drip get big way more than a bottom lip Bit fagged off, told her "Hold this L" and gave her a hockey stick Now back to this Filet Mignon and lobster bisk Nigga thought he cool with everyone, I told 'em "Box the blick" Pull up game like abs or a porn site how I pop up quick Been a shooter since running with a page [?] Running with that Mac since Macintosh took a floppy disk That hoe wanna fuck me while she talking shit, aye, aye Told her "Use the throat and use a lot of spit", aye, aye All that fake quarterbacking got him blitzed, aye, aye This ain't football, pack 'em out with soccer kicks Drip, check, blick, check That bitch, check, I'm getting checks Drip, check, Blick, check That bitch, check, I'm getting checks Check, check, check, check, check, check, check, check Check, check, check, check, check check, I run up a Check, check, check, check, check, check, check, check Check, check, check, check, check, check From Letras Mania