W4RD

[Intro] Fuck, man No fuckin' money, no fuckin' bitches to chill with No mothafuckin' gas money Shit Holes in all my fuckin' shoes, nigga Holes in all my socks Man, what the fuck Man, fuck it, fuck it [Verse] Rolled two cigarillos, had to get my trees up Copped two more golds, had to get my steez up Blow it in the wind breeze 80 dime bags boomin' like Alicia Keys Wakin' up around 9, seen the nigga on the grind Real wavy type shit Real creative ass niggas with a foreign type bitch Coke stains on her lips, from the 'caine that she licked But an under down bitch Terrorist Posse is the clique Bitch Mob with Triple 6, Triple 7 comin' through Hidin' in the fuckin' van we smokin' like a tea kettle Hoppin' out the space shuttle, ridin' in the hover whip Gold ass white bitch, artsy ass black bitch Psychedelic trap shit, shootin' camera shots Black Kray got extended clips [Chorus] (Psychedelic trap shit, shootin' camera shots Black Kray got extended clips, uh) Psychedelic trap shit, shootin' camera shots Black Kray got extended clips (Psychedelic trap shit, shootin' camera shots Black Kray got extended clips, uh) [Verse 2] Had to slow it down one time for the bitch Slow it down 2 times for the hoes with the wrist game Sold through the back, switch lanes, ain't shit change But the girl lick on my dick, mane Skate around town, schemin' on these dumb hoes Looking slick up in my clothes ([?] Juve [?]) Niggas used to call me Oreo Jeans still tight, rockin' twin golds Page 20 [?] for the camera shoots With his coke, bitch