200 Pies
Lyrics
I feel wonderful
I feel amazin' nigga
Oh my fuckin' god, nigga
Rich as a bitch right now (look)
Uh, hundred racks in my sweatpants
Did my scorin' in Portland, I'm Bonzi Wells with the headband (woo)
Build the next powerhouse record label, that was my next plan (talk to 'em)
DrumWork like Death Row in the '90s mixed with Def Jam (ha)
We the Def Squad, but I shoot solo, I'm Redman (brrr)
Right hand holdin' the steering wheel, bustin' back with my left hand (boom, boom, boom, boom)
I'm still bustin' down the Presidential Rolex band (uh-huh)
Everyday, I collect bands, Lambo truck colour eggplant (talk to 'em)
Look, you get fronted a brick, better stack what you made (ha)
Stack up and save, made the plug happy that you came back and you paid
If not, you buyin' one and he gon' front you one (he gon' front you)
Then you turn that two to three or four, then watch that money come (whip up)
Seem like the last three or four years, I been on a money run (I been eatin')
New business endeavours, so this year, I'm on another run
How you talkin' crazy on your songs when you don't bust your gun?
Niggas runnin' down, checkin' your tats like, "Where the fuck you from?" (where you from, pussy?)
Like, "Nigga, what you claim?" (ha)
And I know them Blood homies, they gon' come and let it bang (ha)
And I know some Crip homies that's gon' come and do the same (yeah)
I'm neutral but respected
'Cause I been puttin' in pain, nigga (boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
Yeah
Ayo, bro
Ayy, let me see that newspaper
Yeah, hundred racks in my sweatpants
Did my scorin' in Portland, I'm Bonzi Wells with the headband
Build the next powerhouse record label, that was the next plan (ha)
DrumWork like Death Row in the '90s mixed with Def Jam
We the Def Squad, but I shoot solo, I'm Redman (brrr)
Right hand holdin' the steering wheel, bustin' back with my left hand (brr)
I'm still bustin' down the Presidential Rolex band (you see the bust)
Everyday, I collect bands, Lambo truck color eggplant, nigga
I zen out, Indian style, prayin', pistol out
The girl I'm with, I love her so much, I kiss her in the mouth
If I didn't have a job, I guess I'd rob
If I didn't have a brick, I guess I'd try to hit a lick
But if I didn't have a bitch, would that never exist? It never happened
Think where you would be if I wasn't trappin'
Think where you would be if I didn't sacrifice and make this shit happen (happen)
Before standin' ovations, gun clappin' (grrah)
Two hundred pies in the trunk on 285 (85)
Valley of death, you'd be surprised if you make it alive (alive)
They won't collide when they find out I'm the chief of the tribe
So much dough under my mattress, have to sleep on my side (woo)
I'm a money-getter, business leader, vibe-reader
I bear arms like wifebeaters, VVSs, icicles
Her thighs thicker, she gon' ride it like a bicycle
Oh, we gon' come with plenty weed and we gon' buy liquor (liquor)
See, this that down south, bar for bar, por favor
A rest in peace Twin, Fourth Ward Boulevard
I walk around Atlanta and don't have a bodyguard
It make my wife nervous (nervous), it makes me more assertive (right)
It make me more alert, I pray a fan don't get burnt (burnt)
I pray I use my instincts and everything I learned
I might bust a juug right now and do it for the love (love)
I heard they dropped your new shit and didn't nobody budge
Toni, Toni
Yeah, hundred racks in my sweatpants
Did my scorin' in Portland, I'm Bonzi Wells with the headband
Build the next powerhouse record label, that was the next plan
DrumWork like Death Row in the '90s mixed with Def Jam (Def Jam)
We the Def Squad, but I shoot solo, I'm Redman
Right hand holdin' the steering wheel, bustin' back with my left hand
I'm still bustin' down the Presidential Rolex band
Everyday, I collect bands, Lambo truck color eggplant, nigga
Writer(s): Demond Price
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Royalty Network, Reservoir Media Management, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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