Lyrics
Yeah, they know, they know, they know
It’s Rogers. They know, they know, they know, they know
Since they screaming «Time is money»
Went and got me some Rollies, yellow purple label shirt
That match with my Kobe’s
And I don’t look at no tags, no I don’t look at no price
Left one plain Jane, the other flooded with Ice
That I can rock at my show, all I know is get dough
Might just leave my jewelry on when I’m hitting a hoe
Yeah, my shit way colder, I done been all over
Got a quickie at Mr. Chow, tell the chick to «bend over»
Now I’m leaning in a coup, my bucket sitting low
Run up on this car and I’m a tag your big toe
Heckler & Koch shit, kick like a Rhino
Nobody hating, he perpetrating and I know
I smell like YSL, ladies know me well
Known in the streets for selling Weed and Fish-scale
Mole street, bussin' down a trash bag, cocaine Jag
All they see is paper tags
Got a line out Cali, get gallons of the water
Take a ride with the 30s and sell them for a quarter
If it’s COD tonight, I might cover the order
It’s Bucky Rogers, AKA «The Transporter»
Fuck how they feel, fuck what they say
Same pussy boys that can’t walk around their way
Put a bounty on their head, my niggas' thirsty
I got distinguished shooters, they all Worthy
They say they looking for me, but I ain’t hard to find
Last time I seen them, they was quoting all my lines
And, I’m not talking bout no rap niggas'
I’m only entertaining other trap niggas'
Showing her life, she never seen black sand
17 hour flight, just to get me a tan
Just to rock my new clothes, just to shit on my foes
Got Chanel sandals on, just to show off my toes
My luggage cost more than niggas' cars do
Treat every bitch the same, I never fall through
Caught him without his boss, he gave me teeth and palms
See me in the hood, but believe I’m getting mine
Flipping like dirty kids on a mattress
Keep talking, son gonna be a bastard
Cuz we don’t pull it out less' we gonna blast it
I’m talking funeral service, and closed casket
Streets want me to win, stacking more than I spend
Messing with her, really wanting her friend
You come at my neck, I come at your chin
My youngins' will shotgun you just to see how you spend
I done had too much drink and too much smoke
Spend a dime of C-Notes, It all smell like Coke
You temporary niggas' gotta leak in your boat
You wanna hang yourself, I’ma hand you the rope
You feeling sensitive, better use Dove soap
Every bar I spit, niggas' think that I’m dissing
But, if the shoe fits you pussies, then I think you should listen
It’s «FDM6» bitch, fresh out the kitchen