Floccer

Hmm Yeah, aight Hmm Bitch, I need the chip, I'm a five-star flocker She callin' me daddy, but she know I'm not a father Smokin' good Cook', this that fire, Betty Crocker We cannot kick it, no karate or soccer I'll kick a door before I ever be a doctor Chili bandit, I was up at school crackin' lockers Never been broke, I hit the road, I had to run it up Hundred after hundred, blue strips, better sum it up Christian Louboutins, I bleed the scene, I'm finna fuck 'em up I just bopped for twenty, bitch, you know I'm finna double up Them niggas can't fuck with us, fuck a sucker, shoot 'em up I ain't runnin' fades, I'm off the juice, you know I'm sippin' mud Off the Wockeisha, I can feel it in my lungs If I see the jakes, I ain't stoppin', I'ma run He don't shoot shit, but spent a thousand on that gun She mad I'm always in the field, I told her go fuck with a bum Before I hop inside my feelings, I'ma hop inside a bag Always turned nothin' into somethin', so they mad I send my white boy on a skit, that's my young nigga Chad Bitch, my Glock replace the muscle and my pockets stay fat Bitch, do you wanna fuck? I don't got time for the foolery I'll lose my life before I let 'em touch my jewelry That nigga sound dumb if he ever think he shootin' me I keep it on me, mama not gon' cry, she ain't losin' me I know I could work a job, I hit the road, that's who I choose to be I'm mixin' Cookie with the bread inside the grabba loose leaf