Gas (feat. Tokyo V)

This is it, money Ayy, I'ma put your on with some fuckin' gas Hit up back end if you need some fuckin' gas My lot of juice went there so I can't spark up I'm supposed to call your bitch, my phone won't dial I need me an 8 or I'ma spaz out And f*ck a stew, man I'm cookin' up, I don't ban last Hop up out the Benz truck, tell me where I'm goin' I don't f*ck with lame ho, cause this shit be gettin' boring Bitches on my cell phone, please don't hit me up F*ck that bitch, this bitch nunchucks, uh, yeah We got all this shit and nigga makin' all them plays You keep talkin' shit, this shit ain't sweet just like no glaze Nah, nah, pull up on these niggas, you get hit with this blocker, blocker We don't f*ck with none of the lames, none of them oppa-oppas Yeah, we got hella sticks, oh my God, we got choppa-choppas Be your ass, lost and found, they need the helicopter She wanna be my shawty, but she not the roster Nah, she wanna be my shawty, not up on the roster Yeah, we throwin' all the choppa, yeah And I don't gang-bang, nah, and you can't hang, hang And just because you ridin' rhymin', we ain't gang, gang And I got chains on my neck, but this ain't chain gang And I'm just like Tiki in this bitch, cause we gon' bang, bang, yeah, yeah Fire, fire, light em up like fireworks Do that, don't know it better work You got motion in your city, shit, it better work Keep on talkin', I go crazy like Ms. Buttersworth I'm in the kitchen and I'm whippin' all this chicken, yeah And I'm whippin' all this chicken, yeah And I'm, yeah, yeah See, I'm checkin' out, ooh-wee See, I'm checkin' out, ooh-wee, yeah And you know, uh-huh