TATAS

Smokin' on that Zaza Aye, bitches show me Tatas Ooh, ya, aye, smokin' on that Zaza Ya, bad bitch, show me yeah, yeah Aye Smokin' on that Zaza, it turn me to a vegetable Saw your bitch's Tatas, she flashin' at the festival Now, why he ain't talkin' no money, but he textin' you I seen you stressin' on that corner, get to stretchin' you My baby mama see the pistol, then she stressin' too That SUV it's parked outside, it's got a vest or two That shotgun, it's got ACOGs it's messy, too I hit his ass with that pow-pow, he stressin' too Yeah, that 30 for a zip, and I get 40 piece And if I order five or more, he give me three for free And I ain't fuckin' with these boys, they get a zip a piece That be like 80 pounds a rack, and then I smoke for free I do not give no bullshit, I promise, this ain't mids And if you rob me for my money I know where you live I'll pull up on you in that minivan and snatch your kid I know some killers in my circle, they done did some years They probably rob you for your chain and say your biggest fear And if your kid's f*ck that Uh, f*ck it shoot him in his ribs Shoot him in his shit and then he asked me a question I told him it's the life of the young and the reckless Baby mama act just ate her pussy for breakfast I don't even care, I'm bout to buy a new necklace Cuban links with a diamond ring, what you want, bitch I just hit him up, then I'm gone on my dumb shit Ooh, yeah, rob him for his check and his gun, bitch Ya, rob him for his check and his gun, bitch FN, GG, Double Bands, get it on a new EP You f*ck with me, E.T, bitch, I phone home I hit him with that double boom, with that chrome chrome Okay, and it's a homicide, bitch, a homicide