A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

The Roots

"Got Damn"

[Pre-Verse: Curren$y]
Let me smoke one with my dog
Right on Flake Street
Fendi P, Corner Boy P
What you call him

[Verse: Corner Boy P]
Oh shit, oh shit
Bitch you know that's Corner Boy
These hoes, ain't fucking you, cuz you a broke boy
Big wheels, riding with a Barbie, in a Tonka truck
Nerf gun, on my lap and no, this is not a toy
Oh shit, I think I'm facing time, shit got me paranoid
Boost Mobile clicking, niggas say he 'bout to [?]
Push the bitch face out my lap, I got to make a play
Ándale, honestly I pray to trap another day
God damn, I went through them bands, I mean like God damn
Blowin' gas, all in the air, no I don't fuck with squares
Got damn, put them bands on him, get that nigga murked
His homies ain't gon' do shit for him, but put him on a shirt
God damn, I'm balling, and you hating, that's so pussy
You a pussy, hating on your dog, for pussy, fucking pussy
Always pull your gun and never fucking shoot it
(Never shoot it)
I'm a real Eastside nigga, you can't overlook me
Bring me $4,500, you could get a P
Don't tell me 'bout no Cali prices, Cali far from here
I'm in the club, with a stick of dope behind my ear
Play legendary, fuck around gon' let it go in here
I came up with some niggas , they feel just like me
Your bitch DM said she just wanna put her mouth on me
It's Jet Life, I'm getting money, I flip twice a week
I'm talking Audi G, Beamer G
My scale on me, that's major key
She give me top, my candle lit
I swerve the car, can't handle it
These broke boy's don't want no smoke
I split that nigga cantaloupe
I got bands around the dough
I got first dibs on your hoe
Just served her a
They knocking at my momma door
I blacked out in the booth
Don't fucking ask why Spitta signed me fo'

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #
All lyrics are property and copyright of their owners. All lyrics provided for educational purposes and personal use only.
© 2017 Lyrics Media Group Inc.