Tonart: A minor•
Verse 1
Am
G
Am
Jay Mills, Warner, Dillamax,
Am
Now what you motherfuckers
know about HW?
Tan Tims with the pounds strapped
in your bubble goose
Faded denims with a dome full of purple
Brain going in circles,
fuck flowing out mercury, stupid
G
And what you know about
Am
passing out that yay?
Hand freeze from them boys
G
ready to clap you if you skate
Am
Bitch, it happen every day,
fuck rapping, you were late
Right where you stand,
except on your back,
without your face, dummy
These niggas know how crazy
my rap talents be
But it's like these dumb fucks
still wanna challenge me
G
Am
Come on, fam, you wasting your time
trying to battle me
G
For one, you can't win,
Am
and for two, I'm out of your salary
I'm most hated, but for a grand,
I hustle pimp
Then hit the south and bounce
with my grand hustle pimp
What up, we your muscle pimp,
come on I got mine
Unlock nine
and bring your life
Yeah, parlor, J -Milk, one of them
Am
Uh, baby, baby, baby, baby
Uh, uh, uh, let's do it, uh, uh
G
Look dawg, you don't know a thing,
you don't know it blank
I have emesmerized by the
Check how I roll and sling,
check how I roll and sling
I keep my water bottled,
you can call me pole and spring
Throughout the cold and spring
Shit all, summer winter
Flip raw, chips all
Shit y 'all, I'm a winner
G
Jay hit the weight scale
Your little weight frail I left at 8 hell
And been in 8 jails
Sell a couple pies
And learnt it all in junior high
had a bake sale, face it, this ain't well
Nah, I'm an 8 whale gorilla,
get your neck rattled like snake tails
Am
you wake to make bail,
right through a safe trail
Am
They get they weight stale,
we get our weight sailed,
across the seas,
Vietnamese when I make sales
Dog, I hit the floor, flip it raw, flip it raw,
flip it here, flip it there, flip it where, flip it all
G
Hit the mall, liquor store,
G
But I got so much weight,
I'm just sick of more
Am
Listen, Paul, this is called hustlin',
bubblin', doublin'
That's right, what you hit the kitchen for?
I got a strip of whores,
nah, some stripper whores
Who pitch it all like this is his and this is yours
G
Am
I can't get ignored, dawg,
Am
G
Richard Paul, you still struggle
Am
tryin' to get your whips insured
Dawg, I hit your balls,
switch your balls, switch the balls
Back shots, add drops,
stiff and sore, lips and jaws
You ain't fit for wars,
matter back, bring em here
Sick of doors, I'm sick of doors
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