[Verse]
I heard they counting me out
Well, they must not know how to count
That's why they broke now
I float like a brick of coke in the drought
Human crack in the flesh, niggas know what I'm bout
Everybody down I'm just scoping them out
Had your bitch poking it out while I'm stroking her mouth
Got the clip poking me now, so keep poking your mouth
Or get lit up like a candle when I'm blowing 'em out
Real nigga all day, stay strapped with it
You gotta go get it then come back with it
Young Slick Rick no patch with it
Lit nigga, hot boy no match with it
Still gettin' money, you can hashtag facts with it
And y'all niggas still broke, all caps with it
I'm still the shit, no laxative
I bagged your bitch, no accident
Told her suck my dick, no grabbing it
She told me 'watch your head, got tracks in it'
I told her 'wash the pot it got crack in it'
When I'm in Cali every blunt got wax in it
All these niggas wanna do is post IG pics
But shit you only gon' see 'em on IG with
That's your IG jewels, that's your IG whip
See 'em forreal, like where the shit on IG went?
Me if I post it I own it
Still killing niggas, my condolensces
My nigga Country, youngin' silly but he coming with it
Finger itchy, bust a semi 'til it's nothing in it
Say don't play when it come to the gun mister
All I do is point out 'em out and he gon' have fun with ya
[?] big bro time to work these niggas
Lord knows, who helped birth these niggas
Time to rock now
I want everybody spot now
Me, the one excluded from him including my friends
I'm back, he's moving again
Dealing like Pac got the juice in my hands
They ain't never cooked coke 'til the jar broke
Or whipped up so much you felt like your arms broke
Hit 'em with the ice man look like a bar of soap
Take it out, let it dry, now you got a blonde hoe
Blonde bitch, white girl you never had a Carlos
Santana hoe aka Billy Blanco
Sorry to be the one to tell ya but
You ain't got a car nigga if you got a car note
You ain't never sold one
You ain't never sit down and break down a whole one
Stretched 'til the flow come
Since a youngin', I was focused [?]
You was living on the block, I was tryna controll it
I always wanted so much money I couldn't fold it
Then I got so much money I couldn't hold it
Now I'm back [?] money so I don't get molded
Gold chain, gold watch, gold bracelet on me
Keep the banger on me in case a nigga tryna take it off me
Gold ring, gold piece, Harlem shake it on me
Nigga tryna take it off me, he gon' meet his maker homie
Still smoking like jamaicans, homie
Coke on the grill and I ain't talking 'bout Jamaica, homie
Y'all niggas know me A1 since day one
And told to stay that way until my day come
But all this fake love will make you hate love
And all these fake niggas make me hate niggas
But God, put people in your life for a reason
Some for a lifetime, some for a season
Never bite the hand thats reaching
Out just to help ya, you might just need it, believe it
Morals is important that's why I enforce it
Never burn a bridge after you cross it
Fuck it we burn it before we cross it
[?] we get accross it, everybody bosses
Shine, help your niggas get rich get rich
Never treat these bitches like the world and your niggas like shit
If he go, we go
If he come, we come
If he know, then he don't
It's each one, teach one
All my niggas put in work, each one, squeeze one
Niggas always on they think they tough shit
Til they head spontanesouly combusted
We don't retaliate, we decapitate
Make niggas disappear, evaporate
I'm fire, evacuate
Booty niggas get tossed, no salad plate
I'm fire, evacuate
Booty niggas get tossed, no salad plate
Up In The Studio Gettin Blown Pt. 2 (Freestyle) was written by Juelz Santana.
Juelz Santana released Up In The Studio Gettin Blown Pt. 2 (Freestyle) on Tue Nov 29 2016.