What You Sayin

[Hook] Hit you with no delaying so what you sayin' yo Niggas ain't paying so I just been laying low I'm all about famo like Marlon Brando My bitch go commando, I'm in command though I hit you with ammo, quick as a Lambo I play with her pussy hole like flipping channels And my bitches is too live like Luther Campbell And I'm spitting this shit though like I chew tobacco [Verse] Shimmy shimmy ya shimmy yay I'ma kick a nigga in his mouth; MMA I'ma stick a semi in his mouth; kissy face I'ma lose the weight in the drought; Ricki Lake I'ma get the white and put it out; Em & Dre I'ma fuck her sisters and her mom; Kim & Ye They respect all my artistry like Hemingway And they respect all of my martians, that's why they give me space Muthafucka now you see what's up in my hand so what you sayin woe? Cause I put yo fuckin' brains all on the dashboard You not in my fuckin' lane you on the crash course And if you feelin' froggy leap, I'm kidnapping yo tadpoles I can't remember the bitch name I fucked after my last show When I say my cash low, I'm just telling a bad joke Long hair, don't care, no shirt like Fabio Little nigga dreadlocks with a dick with an afro (Woo-hah!) I got you all in check I make her (Woo-hah!) and now she on my breath I'm with my Goombah, we ridin' on your set And we can shoot out 'till it's quiet on the set Boo ya like Stu Scott and peace up where he rest Bitch I'm groundbreaking and I'm taking baby steps I'm about to bust a rhyme; nod yo head and break ya neck I'ma kill these motherfuckas, you ain't dead, fake ya death I ain't playing, I'ma hit you with no delaying and I ain't paying ho I come through me and my woes looking like Camp Lo This is it, what? Luchini falling from the sky Let's get rich what? Boy, I been rich since 95' Where you been boy? Money talks and I'm about to send a invoice to them boys Yeah I'm tried of this bullshit, I'm wilding, I'm too lit I aim at yo toothpick, leave yo brains in yo boo tits Yeah, I’m tied up with feds, put some guap on yo head Now they can’t find your body, like the sock in the bed This is it, boy, you done dug yourself a hole That’s a pit, boy, that’s where I shit, boy Uh, type of a nigga that’ll slap you with the tooley-o It ain’t about what you smoke, it’s about who you smoke My homeboy Hoody, yo, he real moody, yo I tell him no bullet folks, he still do it tho' They give you a funeral, you won’t be viewable When Tunechi come thru' the door, them hoes get super soaked Now do you really wanna party with me? Let me sees whatcha got fo' me Aye, do you really wanna party with me? In Squad we trust! Puffin' on that stuff, eyes low than Connie Chung They don’t fuck with us cuz they know that we not the ones Boy, we got them guns, scare the holy shit out the nuns Yo, it’s young money, my nigga, you know we bout to bust And everybody armed, more armed than Octopus Write my name on my cups, so nigga know not to touch Every time I bust a rhyme, another one bites the dust Tunechi! [Outro] Busta, fuck wit me!