Lyrics
«This game’s in the refrigerator: the door is closed, the lights are out,
the eggs are cooling, the butter’s getting hard, and the Jell-O's jigglin'!»
That’s when they played in the set nigga
CMT baby, Inglewood shit
You see the foreign bread, it’s a target on our back
We taking all fades nigga, Sox Gang
The city got me feeling like a ROY
Everybody talking 'bout the boy
The city got me feeling like a ROY
Everybody talking 'bout the boy
My dogs crying tattooed tears
I’m tryna find a nigga I can fear
That money make a bad bitch cheer
Everybody making noise for the rookie of the year (X3)
Everybody making noise for the rookie of the
Man everybody make noise
Money on my mental, I put that on everything I’ve been through
Diamonds on my neck got me frozen, I could melt these bitches down and buy a
Benz coupe
I don’t be fucking around with the fuck around, I get to buckin' I’ll have you
ducking down
I don’t be fucking around with the fuck around, I’d rather make these hundreds
double on you fucking clowns
On a nigga that pull up with killers loaded, hands on them arms bet I get your
ass floated
Used to stand on corners pitching like my name was Nolan, Ryan maybe try it
maybe
Capricorn but I rap like a lion baby, niggas looking at me like I was brazy
Tell them this how money and the violence made me
Better yet nigga this is how the I done made me
Rap pay good but I still got peace, ain’t too many niggas like me
Icy fresh on my all day, cool 80K chilling on my white tees ay
Nigga tell the people what you lying for, I could get to them bands under a
blindfold
100K I bet rollie switch the weather for me, especially if you know them niggas
hiding oh
See I got niggas that will flock on your whole spot, tow the doors and put
locks on dope spots
Run up on me tripping off a show knot, ask if it’s an issue I just show up not
Talk to me, talk to me, just don’t talk awkwardly
I keep this Glock with me, and keep that guap on me
You’d do that too if you knew what they offered me
I’m so greedy I want nothing they got for me hey