Back Home
Lyrics
Yeah
Yeah
Yeah, yeah yeah
Pack came in, dope showed up
Word gettin' out, phone blowin' up
Loose lips will get your mouth sewn up
Count fucked up, house blown up
Count fucked up, house blown up
Fuckin' with me and my niggas we fed up, yeah
Nigga fuckin' with me it's a man down
Lord I promise I been tryin' to change my ways
Seems like the money and the bitches in my way
I lost my mind so for my enemies I pray (you know I pray)
I look the police in their face, say crime pays (crime pays)
Get that yay, whip that yay (yeah)
Fuckin' with me and my niggas, we fed up
Fuckin' with me and my niggas it's man down
So much dope in the trunk but when I hit the city I ran out
So much dope in the trunk but when I hit the city I ran out
Got a cocaine wrist
Never spend a dollar on a broke, lame bitch
Pocket full of bands, they my motherfuckin' friends 'til the end
'Cause these niggas and these hoes ain't shit
Say good Lord
Got a cocaine wrist
Never spend a dollar on a broke, lame bitch
Pocket full of bands, they my motherfuckin' friends 'til the end
'Cause these niggas and these hoes ain't shit
Say good Lord
Lord I promise I been tryin' to change my ways
Seems like the money and the bitches in my way
I lost my mind so for my enemies I pray (you know I pray)
I look the police in their face, say crime pays
Somebody wanna go to war with me, to war with me
I got choppers in the car with me, the squad with me
You don't want to go to war with me, to war with me
I got choppers in the car with me, the squad with me
Bitch I'm smokin' on that Schwarzenegger, that terminator
I put meat and potatoes on tables, from flippin' yayo
My amigo got fifty-three acres, a regulator
Got big nuts, I say fuck the world I might, impregnate her
I'm a shark with the fork and the pot, the calculator
Don't get popped with the flex and finesse
Don't try my paper
I spray niggas, straight 'til they can bless up
Black activator
My amigo got fifty-three acres, a regulator
Drivin' up lets get this paper, get this paper
Fuckin' with me and my niggas, we fed up
Fuckin' with me and my niggas it's man down
Bitch I'm back on that dope
Boy I'm Codeine and Molly and Xan'd out (boy I'm Xan'd out)
I relapse on that dope, boy I'm Codeine and Molly and Xan'd out
With a cocaine wrist
Never spend a dollar on a broke, lame bitch
Pocket full of bands, they my motherfuckin' friends 'til the end
'Cause these niggas and these hoes ain't shit
Say good Lord
Got a cocaine wrist
Never spend a dollar on a broke, lame bitch
Pocket full of bands, they my motherfuckin' friends 'til the end
'Cause these niggas and these hoes ain't shit
Say good Lord
Lord I promise I been tryin' to change my ways
Seems like the money and the bitches in my way
I lost my mind so for my enemies I pray (you know I pray)
I look the police in their face, say crime pays
Somebody wanna go to war with me, to war with me
I got choppers in the car with me, the squad with me
You don't want to go to war with me, to war with me
I got choppers in the car with me, the squad with me
(They don't wanna go to)
(Fuckin' with me and my niggas, we fed up)
(Fuckin' with me and my niggas, we fed up)
Writer(s): Freddie Gibbs, Dylan Mamid, Zachary Rapp-Rovan
Copyright(s): Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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