Rawlings

DP on the beat Smokes, Glo Blood gang man, all folks know how we rockin' man Glo gang or no gang man Stupid blunts man, four-wheel drive, man, stupid kush So motherfucking high right now, man Motherfucking Mansion, man, got all these eights I'on know where the f*ck I'm at man, feel me? All type of whips outside, ey M6's all types of shit Ay, ay Aye bally Aye aye, pass me the rolls Aye, so I can ball Bitches already know that we ballin' I'm at the Mardi Gras, in New Orleans Choppas out, get them boys Got them dogs out, dogs sniff Run around your kitchen, where your shit at? Send my locksmith at yo' door Semi Glock catch yo' folks See they Glo, we posted on the Glo block With big ass poles Brought the Glo block out, no suburbs In my mansion bitch, you never heard Where it's at? You never know Try to follow me, I on blow I can be driving, still got the pipe Be driving and I still take your life Pull up on your bitch, I'm still taking flight, ey I'm off the Tooka and I'm still getting high And higher aye Waitin' for the days to go by, and byer aye Only thing that matter is the money aye Wake up in the morning yawning aye, gettin' money Fucking hunnits, fucking thots F*ck niggas, f*ck up your party, up your party Turn it to a pool party Almighty you admiring In my 290 Catch you, you a body Under him, aye, what was wrong with him? I don't know 'cause I'm bipolar When he shoot, he shoot headshots Had yo' pipe up, catch you, rawlings Nigga we don't carry holsters Ride with it in our laps, ain't got time for that chitter chat F*ck nigga got me, I'ma get 'em back This choppa break a nigga back