We Ain't Fuckin' wit Y'All

Chorus: see Bo All I ever wanted was a pair of Nikes A Lexus a mansion and eternal life Maybe what it was I was askin for too much Prayin to God thinkin 'did he give a fuck?' Twelve years old I was always told Every day I want it that glitter ain't gold But fuck that shit I want a twelve inch dick A Coupe a chrome and a money makin bitch Verse 1: see Bo A 'Lac front, back, man, I wish I had it In a brim, Rolex down wit a automatic I be the shit, pimpin hoes from Cali to Louisville Strip em for money in Magic City and the A-T-L 'cause see these bitches ain't shit but investments And they ain't worth shit unless they makin profit I need a money-makin bitch to satisfy my needs Some pussy, dough, diamonds and G's So when I swoop in my coupe, out to get my loot Collect it from hookers more famous than Betty Boo It be that, legalised pimpin that's keepin me above the water Fuck a bitch, get rich and live the life of a baller 'cause a broke bitch ain't nuttin but a downfall Unless she cement her money and her mind, y'all And wit straight-laced game is how ya take control I been practisin the shit since twelve years old Chorus Verse 2: Lunasicc One foot in the grave and eleven inches insane Psychotic nigga named Lunasicc, squattin out them gold thangs Slappin these bitches, y'all can't be laggin on the payroll Let's get your ass right back to the track before your face get steezo I'm cold like the winter, get up in your flesh like a splinter I dash with the cash then mash on the gas, prepare a hog for dinner Creepin when I'm sleepin, my bitch ya want coasted by the window, wit an AK ready for niggas wit their gunplay Cap peelers, drug dealers, I thought you knew that if you fuck wit one of my niggas then you're fuckin wit the crew We roll deep like sheep, always strapped wit some heat Original gangsta, fuck a prankster, ride my nuts like a beat, huh I'm bout it, bout it, but niggas like you, I doubt it, doubt it I come through, drinkin blue lookin bout it, bout it Ready for the gunplay, move the crowd like we the O-Jays Blastin like I'm crazy out the Colt wit my .3-80, Mafioso Chorus Verse 3: 151 Las Vegas, Lake Tahoe to Reno Bitches on the highest floors of the casinos Butt naked, checkin money by the G stack As I pose at the crap tables, sippin on yak I'm just a baller, wit a grip of money-makin hoes Might catch em fo'-deep in a see-Ville on triple golds Wit cell phones and pagers as if it's on a grind So to keep em an X-rated pussy is a goldmine I'm on a major mission to increase my stacks to the highest climax I'm wrapped up in my safe and G-pacts Crackin like green weed sacks, for slangin, for danglin youngstas wit their pants hangin, gangbangin, .45 stangin Ain't no tamin, aimin, accurate, we hit em off and slid em off They get off in the Valley, immaculately, sippin rally's Winners are stackin chips up like alleys From Seattle to Cali, the North of Valley, nigga Chorus Bitch!

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