Bentleys and Bloodstains (feat. T. Money)

God damn Mozart Nah dude it's Chopin Whatever TJ Man f*ck you Let's get this one First track back baby Bow bow, bow bow Watch me I take one step out a Bentley Two opps Choppas pointed right at me Three shot I guess we reverting to plan B Trust me This shit goin down like a movie Truly, my only addiction is blue cheese Starting repenting and sharin' my sins Even the Lord don't believe me She like "Bae please" (baby please) But ion let a bitch phase me You know I'm a dog I'm fucking that up She think I've gon' crazy like rabies Sniffy nose full of cocaine Dumb bitch, she give dumb brain Bust quick make the drum spray I eat the pussy, call it lunch break Ion care what the judge say We beatin that case like it's OJ Reverting back to my old ways That body gone thassa cold case You know they be testing me I'm cookin' it up you know who it was Gordon Ramsey with the recipe Case closed I was 17 (true story) And I turned myself into a better me Man ion even needa lawyer if I got TJ Right next to me When I pull up Bitches need me She dripping wet like a Swim meet When I pipe this shit change her life My shawty badder than ice spice That bitch in a trance, I'm up in her Pants I always roll up evidently I'm skipping the law I've got them in Awe The opps don't pull up Cause they fearing me Second verse gotta make it count Got this beat from Ben He ain't fucking around Been crafting beats since he was 10 I spit some heat then I leave in a Benz Got so much money That I'm greening out The girls see my bands And their titties are out Dick so good she can't live without me Got ice on my wrist that's an AP I see you TJ That was tuff That was tuff Let's hand it back to the goat tho Run it back for part two Aye Here we go I whip glock like a track meet These bullets move fast You gon catch three Don't know who it was hadda sheisty If I'm there you know it's dicey Stick to the plan You know how I move Only the money entice me This shit feelin bland You know how I am I cook up some lyrics they spicy Look at my wrist Look at my neck This shit cost more than your rent Drop 8 bands on a pack The IRS think thassa business expense People be foolish They think that they got it It's all fun in games till the gun bang I drank up Bacardi Then shot for a hobby God damn thassa lot for a Sunday Whew, that's the Lords day baby haha