Yo, sing song of sixpence, pocket full of fye, nigga slide on me give him props cause he ain't pie
I can't leave without my blick, that shit too f*cking dangerous
Nigga get your mind right, I know where the f*ck I'm aiming
They gon' find your ass inside a shipping container
Jefe pop up out the cut with Drakes, now he's talking My Language
I got matte black and peanut butter, different races
Nigga, play I got 9 millimeters and .380s
Told the plug, pull up, I ain't trying to do no waiting
I feel like Dr. James Naismith, nigga, hall of famin'
Go against the guys and you facin' discrimination
Y'all be doing all that f*cking faking
Send ya to the basement.
B-B-B-M-G
I be dropping dick in bitches' faces
Every time I pull up on that hoe
I got her back breakin'
Crack making, tax payments
Bitch, I'm Ronald Reagan
That 4 pound always on my person
Bitch, I'm not fading
I'll send a nigga ass out of this earth, like Carl Sagan
We got hella ammunition, pussy nigga, come and take it
I heard your little song it suck, just like i got fellated
What the Bomboclat, I smoke a nigga like a damn Jamaican
B-B-M-G ducking the pigs
I'm trying to get this bacon
I just put one in the chamber
Okay, we in rotation
I'ma talk my shit
Give a f*ck how y'all niggas take it
When I caught his ass, he did the dash
Had niggas speed racing
Every day, I got my rockin' I'm Tracy McGrady
Me and Jefe so locked in, We trade hollows for tracers
You ain't f*ckin' on the first night, I'ma think you basic
I could die tomorrow
So tonight, I'm trying to make a baby
Bro getting hella loads
He beat them hoes like Zac Stacey
Nigga get dem bags off and he do it on a daily basis
I can't leave without my blick, that shit too f*cking dangerous
Nigga get your mind right, I know where the f*ck I'm aiming
They gon' find your ass inside a shipping container
Jefe pop up out the cut with Drakes, now he's talking My Language
I got matte black and peanut butter, different races
Pussy Nigga, play, I got 9 millimeters and .380s
Told the plug, pull up, I ain't trying to do no waiting
I feel like Dr. James Naismith, nigga, hall of famin'
I got Matte Black, and Peanut Butter, different races.
509 BMG - crack 2 Lyrics
509 BMG - crack 2 Lyrics
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English
Yo, sing song of sixpence, pocket full of fye, nigga slide on me give him props cause he ain't pie
I can't leave without my blick, that shit too f*cking dangerous
Nigga get your mind right, I know where the f*ck I'm aiming
They gon' find your ass inside a shipping container
Jefe pop up out the cut with Drakes, now he's talking My Language
I got matte black and peanut butter, different races
Nigga, play I got 9 millimeters and .380s
Told the plug, pull up, I ain't trying to do no waiting
I feel like Dr. James Naismith, nigga, hall of famin'
Go against the guys and you facin' discrimination
Y'all be doing all that f*cking faking
Send ya to the basement.
B-B-B-M-G
I be dropping dick in bitches' faces
Every time I pull up on that hoe
I got her back breakin'
Crack making, tax payments
Bitch, I'm Ronald Reagan
That 4 pound always on my person
Bitch, I'm not fading
I'll send a nigga ass out of this earth, like Carl Sagan
We got hella ammunition, pussy nigga, come and take it
I heard your little song it suck, just like i got fellated
What the Bomboclat, I smoke a nigga like a damn Jamaican
B-B-M-G ducking the pigs
I'm trying to get this bacon
I just put one in the chamber
Okay, we in rotation
I'ma talk my shit
Give a f*ck how y'all niggas take it
When I caught his ass, he did the dash
Had niggas speed racing
Every day, I got my rockin' I'm Tracy McGrady
Me and Jefe so locked in, We trade hollows for tracers
You ain't f*ckin' on the first night, I'ma think you basic
I could die tomorrow
So tonight, I'm trying to make a baby
Bro getting hella loads
He beat them hoes like Zac Stacey
Nigga get dem bags off and he do it on a daily basis
I can't leave without my blick, that shit too f*cking dangerous
Nigga get your mind right, I know where the f*ck I'm aiming
They gon' find your ass inside a shipping container
Jefe pop up out the cut with Drakes, now he's talking My Language
I got matte black and peanut butter, different races
Pussy Nigga, play, I got 9 millimeters and .380s
Told the plug, pull up, I ain't trying to do no waiting
I feel like Dr. James Naismith, nigga, hall of famin'
I got Matte Black, and Peanut Butter, different races.
I can't leave without my blick, that shit too f*cking dangerous
Nigga get your mind right, I know where the f*ck I'm aiming
They gon' find your ass inside a shipping container
Jefe pop up out the cut with Drakes, now he's talking My Language
I got matte black and peanut butter, different races
Nigga, play I got 9 millimeters and .380s
Told the plug, pull up, I ain't trying to do no waiting
I feel like Dr. James Naismith, nigga, hall of famin'
Go against the guys and you facin' discrimination
Y'all be doing all that f*cking faking
Send ya to the basement.
B-B-B-M-G
I be dropping dick in bitches' faces
Every time I pull up on that hoe
I got her back breakin'
Crack making, tax payments
Bitch, I'm Ronald Reagan
That 4 pound always on my person
Bitch, I'm not fading
I'll send a nigga ass out of this earth, like Carl Sagan
We got hella ammunition, pussy nigga, come and take it
I heard your little song it suck, just like i got fellated
What the Bomboclat, I smoke a nigga like a damn Jamaican
B-B-M-G ducking the pigs
I'm trying to get this bacon
I just put one in the chamber
Okay, we in rotation
I'ma talk my shit
Give a f*ck how y'all niggas take it
When I caught his ass, he did the dash
Had niggas speed racing
Every day, I got my rockin' I'm Tracy McGrady
Me and Jefe so locked in, We trade hollows for tracers
You ain't f*ckin' on the first night, I'ma think you basic
I could die tomorrow
So tonight, I'm trying to make a baby
Bro getting hella loads
He beat them hoes like Zac Stacey
Nigga get dem bags off and he do it on a daily basis
I can't leave without my blick, that shit too f*cking dangerous
Nigga get your mind right, I know where the f*ck I'm aiming
They gon' find your ass inside a shipping container
Jefe pop up out the cut with Drakes, now he's talking My Language
I got matte black and peanut butter, different races
Pussy Nigga, play, I got 9 millimeters and .380s
Told the plug, pull up, I ain't trying to do no waiting
I feel like Dr. James Naismith, nigga, hall of famin'
I got Matte Black, and Peanut Butter, different races.
Writer: 509 BMG
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid