Jazz Flow (feat. iHateGee & iHateKeb)

I know these niggas probably plottin' on me And I can't love you when the money comin The way we hoppin' out on feet, ain't no fuckin' runnin And the way I'm fuckin' on ya, bitch, I got your bitch cummin Don't know why these niggas hatin', I'm just chasin' money So much ice up on my wrist, might leave your nose runnin Face a lot of rainy days, I just pray get sunny Bust down a couple of bitches who used to call me ugly The way he puttin' switches on his Glizzys, get your man whacked Got li chene shootin' out the car, you don't know what these hollows at That's your bitch I'm fuckin' on, eatin' my dick just like a fruit snack Man, please don't call my phone, thinkin' on niggas we in war with I know these niggas probably plottin' on me And I can't love you when the money comin The way we hoppin' out on feet, ain't no fuckin' runnin And the way I'm fuckin' on ya, bitch, I got your bitch comin Ouuuuuuu Yea They used to laugh at the dream , they used to say it's funny But when we hop up in the booth, we got they head bumpin I told a bitch to stop movin', I don't like the running 300 blackout, hit your chest, you gon' feel it dumpin Mmm, yeah, you gon' feel it comin Remember back up in the gap, I used to look bummy And , all the hoes used to laugh, used to say it's funny But now I got too much cheese, can't let you take it from me Uh, this cheese that I'm chasin' got me in my bag I don't want your fuckin' love, got a clappin' ass Matter of fact, make that bitch clap right now, come on All right, that's enough, that's enough These hoes will set you up no matter what you did Uh, I get chopped off my shoulder, f*ck over, bitch The way I'm shittin' on these niggas, better call an ambulance How the f*ck they gangsta? Gettin' polices and shit These niggas lyin', on they dick, I'm just chasin' my bag Put my all into these songs, yeah, I'll give it my last Doin' hunnid on the dash, I just pray I don't crash Tell my girl I'll make it home, cause they'll knock she gon' flash Bae, I'm tryin' to make it home, I ain't make it yet The opps say they want smoke, I'm tryin' to take it there When we see you on site and we don't play it fair Makin' players for my niggas like the NFL 45 if I leave a nigga shitty like M&M Who put that iron upon yo potna, you can't even tell We got your bitch, set you up, that hoe, was never real He don't come out the house, we probably hit his ass, I with wooden steel If she was up to me, I would've never fucked that nasty hoe She got a man, yeah, I know, I don't want her, that's for sure I Think She like me on the low, but all I want is the dough I know these niggas probably plottin' on me And I can't love you when the money comin The way we hoppin' out on feet, ain't no fuckin' runnin And the way I'm fuckin' on you, bitch, I got your bitch Cummin Mmm, mmm, mmm, mmm, mmm, mmm, mmm, mmm