Man Down

Cash out on this bitch, cash out on this bitch, we ain't doing no talking, at all, we ain't doing no talking Catch a opp when he coming out the crib, hit him, ain't doing no talking G17 ripping through his back, now he on the ground, he can't do no more walkin Man, I left the crib with a 30 clip, and I came back with an empty one Why they trying to war, but ain't got no money Man, y'all niggas broke, y'all better get you some If you don't get no hoes, you better get you some If you ain't shot a opp, you better hit you on Talking down on me, what type of shit you on Got the drake up on me, so what strip you on? Make them think it's cool when they're comfortable Up the Glock up on him, Since he fucked with you Now your mom crying, and your brother too And your man's check, boy, that's number two I don't care who first, man, I want him gone Ain't no squashing beef, we can't get along And if God want him, we gon' send him home Bullets hit his mental Yeah, they crack his dome Since I got the bag, I've been out the way Know they want me dead, but I'm here to stay He be on the bench, but he tryna play Man, the opps roaches when we see them we spray I be counting money till my thumbs hurt I be smoking gas till my lungs hurt And it's crazy, my homie just fucked her He just ran up on me, now his man down You get money, but still got your hand out I got money, he say I'm his man's now I don't know why these niggas so fanned out Don't be walking around here with your head down I get money, they say I'm the man now Man, that bullet's just talking his head fast He got kicked off his bike, he a fat ass Can't catch up when he coming out the crib Hit him, ain't doing no talking 17, ripping through his bag Now he on the ground He can't do no more walking I left the crib with a 30 clip And I came back with an empty wallet Why they tryna war, but ain't got no money Man, y'all niggas broke Y'all better get you some If you ain't shy to op, you better hit you on Talking down on me, what type of shit you on Got the drake up on me, so what strip you on Make them think it's cool when they comfortable up the Glock up on him, since he fucked with you Now your mom crying, and your brother too And your man's check, boy, that's number two I don't care who first, man, I want him gone Ain no squashing beef, we can't get along And if God want him, we gon' send him home Bullets hit his mental, yea they cracked his dome