Stay down, till you come up A couple bands, price tag on your head
Play with that bread, yeah, ya Ass Dead couple grand, 100 shots,
We don't f*ck with no pigs These niggas ain't rappin', all I hear is Singing playin' tough, so everybody bangin' Chain swingin', wish a nigga would
Price tag on his head, what it cost
Just a loaf of bread And we don't scam, we get it off the gram
No, we don't do it for the gram Niggas hustlin' wrong, that's how you get
Caught up in the jam When I pull up, I make a nigga throw up
Make him sick of the glow up, make him sicker than Covid
Man, this ice like cold cuts F*ck a nigga, man, I chop a nigga up and
Freeze him for lunch A couple bands, price tag on your head
Play with that bread, yeah, it's dead A couple grand, toy shots, I just said
We don't f*ck with no pigs Okay, I'm reloaded
Throwin' up another deuce Feelin' like I'm Trump, you'll think I'm f*ckin
Bulletproof I grew up on that GZ
If it ain't right, we'll swap him out Since I passed through the mail, we don't
See droughts Wholesale only, you sellin' re-rock
Put it on the scale, or scrape it out the pots
Six hour compact, I keep two Glocks A couple bands, price tag on your head
Play with that bread, yeah, it's dead A couple grand, toy shots, I just said
We don't f*ck with no pigs
Ayy, but don't be so eager to meet up with them people
And act like you gon' give them some pennies to play the reaper
Cause they might do you dirty, subtract you to make it equal
Cause they got more paper to play with, plus they do it lethal
All my old hoes want reboots, they love steakin' seafood
They love two, three rounds, I gotta show them what greens do
Damn right, we into him, choppers in the meeting room
Choppers in the SUVs, followed by a fleet of goons
I can't do shit for free, it cost some Gs for me to move
Dropped a couple bands on the Smith & Wesson 5'7
Damn, you was the man, how the f*ck you fell off five levels
Huh, how the f*ck you fell off five levels
A couple bands, price tag on your head
Play with that bread, yeah, it's dead A couple grand, toy shots, I just said
We don't f*ck with no pigs
We don't f*ck with no pigs
J5 GMB - Couple Grands (feat. Slaay Saad & Billion berg) Lyrics
J5 GMB - Couple Grands (feat. Slaay Saad & Billion berg) Lyrics
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English
Stay down, till you come up A couple bands, price tag on your head
Play with that bread, yeah, ya Ass Dead couple grand, 100 shots,
We don't f*ck with no pigs These niggas ain't rappin', all I hear is Singing playin' tough, so everybody bangin' Chain swingin', wish a nigga would
Price tag on his head, what it cost
Just a loaf of bread And we don't scam, we get it off the gram
No, we don't do it for the gram Niggas hustlin' wrong, that's how you get
Caught up in the jam When I pull up, I make a nigga throw up
Make him sick of the glow up, make him sicker than Covid
Man, this ice like cold cuts F*ck a nigga, man, I chop a nigga up and
Freeze him for lunch A couple bands, price tag on your head
Play with that bread, yeah, it's dead A couple grand, toy shots, I just said
We don't f*ck with no pigs Okay, I'm reloaded
Throwin' up another deuce Feelin' like I'm Trump, you'll think I'm f*ckin
Bulletproof I grew up on that GZ
If it ain't right, we'll swap him out Since I passed through the mail, we don't
See droughts Wholesale only, you sellin' re-rock
Put it on the scale, or scrape it out the pots
Six hour compact, I keep two Glocks A couple bands, price tag on your head
Play with that bread, yeah, it's dead A couple grand, toy shots, I just said
We don't f*ck with no pigs
Ayy, but don't be so eager to meet up with them people
And act like you gon' give them some pennies to play the reaper
Cause they might do you dirty, subtract you to make it equal
Cause they got more paper to play with, plus they do it lethal
All my old hoes want reboots, they love steakin' seafood
They love two, three rounds, I gotta show them what greens do
Damn right, we into him, choppers in the meeting room
Choppers in the SUVs, followed by a fleet of goons
I can't do shit for free, it cost some Gs for me to move
Dropped a couple bands on the Smith & Wesson 5'7
Damn, you was the man, how the f*ck you fell off five levels
Huh, how the f*ck you fell off five levels
A couple bands, price tag on your head
Play with that bread, yeah, it's dead A couple grand, toy shots, I just said
We don't f*ck with no pigs
We don't f*ck with no pigs
Play with that bread, yeah, ya Ass Dead couple grand, 100 shots,
We don't f*ck with no pigs These niggas ain't rappin', all I hear is Singing playin' tough, so everybody bangin' Chain swingin', wish a nigga would
Price tag on his head, what it cost
Just a loaf of bread And we don't scam, we get it off the gram
No, we don't do it for the gram Niggas hustlin' wrong, that's how you get
Caught up in the jam When I pull up, I make a nigga throw up
Make him sick of the glow up, make him sicker than Covid
Man, this ice like cold cuts F*ck a nigga, man, I chop a nigga up and
Freeze him for lunch A couple bands, price tag on your head
Play with that bread, yeah, it's dead A couple grand, toy shots, I just said
We don't f*ck with no pigs Okay, I'm reloaded
Throwin' up another deuce Feelin' like I'm Trump, you'll think I'm f*ckin
Bulletproof I grew up on that GZ
If it ain't right, we'll swap him out Since I passed through the mail, we don't
See droughts Wholesale only, you sellin' re-rock
Put it on the scale, or scrape it out the pots
Six hour compact, I keep two Glocks A couple bands, price tag on your head
Play with that bread, yeah, it's dead A couple grand, toy shots, I just said
We don't f*ck with no pigs
Ayy, but don't be so eager to meet up with them people
And act like you gon' give them some pennies to play the reaper
Cause they might do you dirty, subtract you to make it equal
Cause they got more paper to play with, plus they do it lethal
All my old hoes want reboots, they love steakin' seafood
They love two, three rounds, I gotta show them what greens do
Damn right, we into him, choppers in the meeting room
Choppers in the SUVs, followed by a fleet of goons
I can't do shit for free, it cost some Gs for me to move
Dropped a couple bands on the Smith & Wesson 5'7
Damn, you was the man, how the f*ck you fell off five levels
Huh, how the f*ck you fell off five levels
A couple bands, price tag on your head
Play with that bread, yeah, it's dead A couple grand, toy shots, I just said
We don't f*ck with no pigs
We don't f*ck with no pigs
Writer: Falcao Monge, Dessad Robinson
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid