Co Cash - Take III

Текст песни

Ayy, last name Cash, first name Co\nBig shit popper, whatever the fuck you wanna call that nigga\nHitKidd, what it do, man? (Ah, shit)\nYeah\nI got somethin to say up in here\nThe first nigga play up in here, he gon' lay up in here, he gon' stay up in here\nTote my stick everyday up in here, this shit crucial like I just bought Clay up\nin here\nI been runnin' it way up, this shit like a lay up, I’m havin' my way up in here\nGlizzy with the Glock stop, pull up in a drop top\nWe gon' spin his block, drop it right off at the chop shop\nBloody like a clot, dawg, sorry, I cannot stop\nHit 'em in his stomach, turn his shirt into a crop top\nNever had a soft spot, run up on me, pop, pop\nEvery nigga with me, tote a semi, thse are not props\nCruisin' with a thot box, pick it from the opp block\nNiggas standin' by, it kind of hard for thm to not watch\nThey tryna mimic me, can’t be my mini-me\nWe not the same, they, like, zero percent of me\nShit on my enemies, I know they sick of me\nThey havin' cash, but that shit ain’t equivalent\nNever been friendly, it ain’t no befriending me\nFuck that lil' boy, he got bitch nigga tendencies\nMovin' so vividly, humble humility\nThat nigga broke, get him out my vicinity\nHo, just to be in my presence a privilege\nBut you can stay if you keep it explicit\nShe eat the dick like the meal is exquisite\nAnd she bring a friend every time that she visit\nI’m chasin' digits, I don’t do the dissin'\nNever see my name in no nigga mentions\nMy dawg, he don’t like to talk, but he vicious\nHe just go suit up and handle the business\nThey tryna run off with shit I invented\nThey know who the hottest, of course they gon' copy\nYoung nigga poppin', but never been cocky\nIt’s one in the head or the Glock don’t cock it\nPretty lil' body, she callin' me papi\nShe callin', my bitch look like Buffy, the body\nLook at my pockets, they buff and they stocky\nGot rich in the yo, so they callin' me Gotti\nWho is this Co nigga? Won’t play with no nigga\nHe do a show, his stick go through the door with him\nRunning with gorillas, trappers and go-getters\nSell it for high, but we buy for the low, nigga\nMoney get so bigger, bitches be so bitter\nBlockin' my phone 'cause I said I can’t go with her\nFuck that lil' ho nigga, go get the dough, nigga\nI used to sleep on a pallet with no pillow\nBaby .9 on me, this bitch don’t got no sitter\nWhere is the nanny, racks stuffed in the fanny\nRock so much gold they think I won a Grammy\nCount up a hundred while still in my jammies\nWe havin' big bucks and never no whammies\nShe seen my ice and she came out her panties\nScreaming my name, make her chant it in Spanish\nShe’s a grown woman, but like to get managed\nRich as fuck, got 'em calling me Manny\nIf she’s a cougar, I’ll fuck on your mammy\nKeep baggin', thumb through them racks in a a hammy\nRich nigga shit, the broke wouldn’t understand me\nI got some niggas that’s trappin' and scammin'\nYou got some niggas that’s livin' informant\nBought a new chopper, this bitch Pakistani\nMake the wrong move and I let it do damage\nDon’t condone bitch shit, that’ll get you hit quick\nI ain’t playin Madden, but I call my caddy hit stick\nAlways been a misfit, all my diamonds glistenin'\nMy neck and my wrist lit, call me, «Mr. Big Shit»\nSpent a nigga five months rent up on a fit bitch\nShit they never seen, they like, «Nigga, where’d you get this?»\nSoon as a bitch hold out her hand, she get dismissed\nSent a pic of money when she asked me for a dick pic\nI’m in the A with a thick bitch from Illinois\nCoon, you don’t care, what you rockin a fitted for?\nThey think they started the shit I been did before\nJust poppin' shit, what you all in yo feelings for?\nBroke a bitch, now this ho callin' me City Boy\nGot on two chains and my thigh got a Titty Boi\nBetter think twice when it’s me that you sendin' for\nWatch how you talk to the biggest, lil' bitty boy\nHitKidd, what it do, man?\nYeah, yeah, yeah\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nI be havin' this sound or somethin'\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah