Lyrics Big Tymerz - Lud Foe

Kid wonder, you made this beat? Damn
Skrt
No Hooks Part two in this bitch, you know how I'm rockin', nigga
Get your guns up, get your funds up
You on that opp shit, get mop sticked, bitch
Skrt, skrt
Aye, aye, aye

Your bitch is a gunner
Ride foreigns in the summer
Pop pills, smoke weed
I'm the plug with the drugs, I got what you need

Big rims on Tuxs
Ran off on the plug, yeah he outta luck
A dose, shut the lights
I done dodged fast cars yeah I'm runnin' lights
Highspeed, Hellcat
Hell nah, hella nah ain't no catchin' that
Fuck your bitch from the back
Hell naw, I ain't want her you can have her back

Forgiatos mounted up
Check a big bag of money then I count it up
Homicides, zip 'em up
He ain't breathin' tell the coroners go and pick 'em up

Pull up, slide doors
Blue strips, open doors
Designer drugs, designer clothes
Designer hoes, designer coats

New whips, pigeon toe
New ice, rose gold
New price, show sold
Bankrolls don't fold

Rocks, blows, we sell doughs
So strong make a junkie itch blow
Water whippin', I broke the stove
Now I got dope residue all on my clothes

Red bottoms, Gucci shoes we rock Louis too
You a killer, April Fools
Nigga get this shit confused you gon' make the news

Dealerships, foreign whips
Cash out, poker chips
Thick bitch, mean walk
Yellow tape, red tape and white chalk

These niggas all talk
Hit the mall fuck it off, forgot what I brought
These niggas throw salt
They just made cause they broke, ain't my fault

Follow the trails, I'm drippin' sauce
Leg hangin' out the car cause my doors off
He off lean, he dosed off
He ain't see me comin' with that Mossberg sawed off

Poppin' pills let me (be great)
Got a bad bitch and she on Section eight
Pappadeaux and steak
Tipped the waitress a hundred told her bring my plate

Presidential, Obama
Naw not the president I'm talkin' marijuana
My eyes low off, I'm high off ganja
Dawg changed, I can't see you call me Stevie Wonder

In the strip club throwin' ones
We just snuck in with all our guns
I'm standin' on the bar, showin' out
These Gucci shoes ain't comin' out

Doughnuts, burnt outs
Nascar, fast car watch the engine 'bout
See a lame point 'em out
My homie tweakin' off the shit, he'll knock 'em out
Your time is runnin' out
We'll turn a nigga house to a haunted house
I get it by the large amout
I hit my plug for the drugs if I'm running out