Bad Intentions (Purp & Patron)

[Intro]

Hey, yo, let me get some more Patrón

Cherry Coke

Some motherfuckin' Zig-Zags

[Verse 1]

Bad intentions, nigga, fuckin' with the wrong one

Call Dre, tell that nigga I'm on one

Aftermath, nigga, we blaze Cuban cigars

And drive foreign cars, nigga we stars

Fuck bitches at our leisure

Stuff dick inside they throat 'til they have seizures

Hoes down, B's up

Roll the trees up, Smokey Robinson

Get high, start trippin', I like his jewelry, then I'm robbin' son

Fuck a platinum plaque, nigga hood with it

Bouncin' that Impala down the shore like, "What's good with it?"

I'm a made man, I wear J's and

I been around more rocks than a fuckin' caveman

I done sold it and bagged it

I done drove it and crashed it

Fucked my credit up smashin' the Aston

F.Y.I., nigga, I got a magnum

Only time I been punked was by Ashton Kutcher

I'm a motherfuckin' butcher

Leave me around anything white and I'ma cook it

I be all up in the kitchen, no need for an apron, playboy

I'm a professional, I'm cakin', playboy

The last real D-boy in this rap shit

Chrome 24s with the fat lip, call them shits Ras Kass

Rasclart, you fuckin' with the bomb squad

Dismantle any MC for free, you been warned, god

Church, high power

Impala sittin' clean like it took 5 showers

Nigga, I'm the G.A.M.E., so don't you tempt me

Your chest'll be full and that clip'll be empty

I'm simply one of the most raw niggas in this shit

Why you think that I got in this shit?

Paid for my momma house, 'bout 700k

Can't stop smokin' but I'm down to a blunt a day

Yay, I mean yayo

On the block, sun up, sun down, like where the day go?

We come through chargin', nigga, like San Diego

Seventeen chargers, couple of 'em same color but the shit is ok though

'Cause all my niggas on the payroll get caught slippin' and get a halo

And I ain't talking 'bout the Xbox

Niggas let the tech knock

Welcome to the real-life Black Ops

Where it's still fuck the police, white or black cop

And we ain't killin Jonny Law, nigga, give 'em an ass shot

Put him on injured reserve

Tie my number twelves up and then I give him the bird, word

That's how I get down, all you rap niggas floppin'

Who talkin' shit now? Only Drake and Yay worth coppin'

I take a hiatus, spend a little time gamblin' in Vegas

Come back to back runnin' faster than five Lakers

So motherfuck a hater and his family

About to finish the R.E.D. album up in Miami

Lebron can't stand me, 'cause I got this Purp in my cup

24s on the truck, Laker Game, nigga, what?

Ballin, Jim Jones voice, problem with the Byrd Gang?

See the chrome, boy, them my motherfuckin' homeboys?

But I'm from Cali not to be confused with Khaled

He say "we the best" but I'm the best, that's valid

And before you try to say that that's a diss

I was at Khaled's house two days ago, bitch

Sippin' Long Island Iced Teas with a white bitch

That was just as bad as Ice-T's, but she's not the wifey

The wife be at home with the kids

Look at them and see how a motherfucker live

24 cars, 5 and a half cribs, I was spendin' money like goin' broke was the shit

Shit