Matter of Fact (feat. Foolio)

Ill Leet, ah (Turn it up!) Ayy Pick up the cheese, go ham in the bank “Aye, what you up to?” Damn, watcha think bih? Matter of fact, I don’t give a damn what you think What is there to say? I am what you ain’t I'ma make it work, I can what ya can’t Shaq in his prime, slam in the paint Back on the grind, nigga, I don't even skate Pussy boy the type to go file a complaint You a snitch, word goin' round, you a bitch All you do is talk boy, you sound like ya bitch Have yo ass lost, get found in a ditch Ridin' round town sippin' Crown in a Vic I'm the shit, you can’t even tell me it Trapped up, you can’t even sell me it Back up, like I fell and shit Back up, boy ya smell like shit Ain’t shit sweet, we don’t like you But the penthouse suite, and a nice view Shippūden, Jui-Jitsu with it Hadouken, yeah, Ryu nigga In the coupe, flyin’ right by you nigga Problem with the crew, We gon' slide through, nigga Took his bitch, but I ain’t try to, nigga Now that nigga sick like the swine flu hit ‘em I ain’t phased, Nothin' new, I do this every day Told me not to do it, I'ma do it anyway Matter of fact, nigga, I’ll do it in ya face I ain’t even know that you was in the race Aye, f*ck it bih, it is what it was Somethin' like a pig, had to get it out the mud Bitch I ain’t the one, you shit outta luck If I ain’t ya son, ain’t a bih I can trust On my mammy I’m too hot, nigga, fan me If a nigga plot, tryna scam me Green with the shot, nigga, Danny Drummer on the block, Nick Cannon Hit ‘er with the block, bitch spammin' No this ain’t pink, it’s salmon Ayy, look over there, jitt jammin' But my gun ain’t, it’s blammin' Pick up the cheese, go ham in the bank “Aye, what you up to?” Damn, watcha think bih? Matter of fact, I don’t give a damn what you think What is there to say? I am what you ain’t I'ma make it work, I can what ya can’t Shaq in his prime, slam in the paint (Six!) Back on the grind, nigga, I don't even skate Pussy boy the type to go file a complaint Pull up that bag, Call up lil' bro, he gon' spazz Like a drunk driver, he crash We on yo ass Pull up on you, drop the mask Just like a toe, he got tagged (Bah!) These niggas pussy All of my opps, they some rookies All of my opps, they some pussies Sweet just like cookies I'ma rock out to the fullest (Rock out) Pussy, we bully the bullies (Aye, on gang) Pop out, SK on my waist (On my waist) Pull up on a nigga, make his pussy ass race (Make 'em race) Shoot 'em in the throat, then I shoot 'em in the face (Shoot 'em in the face) Cops got behind me so I had to jump a gate (- and I'm outta there) Ah, pussy ahh boy, you late Pull up on a nigga with the motherfuckin' K Brr-BOP, then let that bitch spray (Bah!) Leave a nigga dead on his motherfuckin' face (Bah, bah!) Niggas want smoke, we gon' clear it F*ck around catch them bullets flying like Spirit Niggas talk down on me, I don't even hear it If it ain’t God homie, I don't even fear it What you wanna do, nigga? We can do it Pull up like U-Haul, get this bitch movin' Pull up in Duval, 6, I’m with Fooli Shootin' in this bitch like a flick, it’s a movie I keep that lead, if you wanna test me, nigga Praying that the feds don’t arrest me, nigga Got ya bitch wet like a jet ski, nigga Choppa got kick like it's Jet Li, nigga Get yo ass lost on the wrong side of town Boy yo turn over if you step outta bounds If a nigga cross me, he ain’t bein' found If a nigga jock me, bitch it’s goin down On gang