Lyrics 48 Bars - MEMO
Ima
make
a
hunnid
bandz
by
my
f*ckin
self
All
I
really
need
is
guap,
I
want
nothing
else
You
be
talking
hella
crazy,
need
some
f*cking
help
Better
watch
yo
mouth,
n
who
u
dissin,
before
you
ducking
shells
Everybody
love
to
hate
when
they
take
an
L
I
hit
yo
b*tch
everyday
if
she
suck
it
well
Bet
you
prolly
got
no
hoes,
cuz
u
f*ck
and
tell
I'm
the
type
to
f*ck
yo
babymomma,
keep
it
to
myself
Why
you
acting
on
a
track,
like
its
tv?
All
my
brothers
popping
out,
like
its
3D
They
be
hating,
but
they
really
wanna
be
me
I
feel
like
John
Cena
cuz
they
never
wanna
see
me
Talk
sh*t
in
every
song,
it's
a
diss
track
But
if
you
dissin
on
my
name
you
get
b*tch
slapped
If
u
really
want
my
fade
we
can
get
that
Bzy
got
tha
strap,
hell
knock
ya
homies
sh*t
back
Why
they
braggin
bouta
4,
but
only
dropped
2?
Broke
boy
smoking
blacks
like
the
cops
do
N
if
you
rocking
wit
the
opps,
you
get
mopped
too
Big
Brodie
pull
up
wit
the
Glocks,
and
the
chops
too
You
got
straps,
but
you
never
doing
nothing
wit
it
Stop
posing
for
tha
gram,
always
bluffin
wit
it
Back
then,
I
remember
you
was
never
wit
it
Talking
bout
licks,
but
we
all
know
that
you
never
hit
it
B*tch
I
been
about
my
sh*t,
it
ain't
nothing
new
I
remember
selling
packs
in
my
middle
school
N
if
we
talking
bout
licks,
bet
I
hit
a
few
N
if
I
licked
you,
you
should
know
it's
cuz
I
needed
too
B*tch
I
got
2 hands,
I
don't
need
a
tool
Sock
him
out
lunch
time,
while
he
eating
food
I
ain
being
rude,
b*tch
I'm
jus
speaking
truth
Got
yo
main
hoe
on
my
di*k,
and
she
eat
it
too
Good
brain,
I
can't
f*ck
wit
no
dumb
b*tch
I
swear
to
god
I'm
allergic
to
a
bum
b*tch
Treat
money
like
some
pus*y,
make
it
c*m
quick
I
ain't
f*cking
wit
no
broke
b*tch,
wit
no
blue
strips
She
ain
bringing
me
no
bread,
then
she
useless
Dumb
hoes
hella
broke
cuz
they
clueless
Why
u
flexin
wit
a
gun?
u
never
shoot
sh*t
Stakx
hella
Eazy
wit
a
straps,
he
be
Ruthless
I
ain
Rollin
wit
a
b*tch
less
she
ride
wit
me
When
tha
time
come,
b*tch
a
better
slide
wit
me
Pistol
in
her
purse,
bet
she
do
tha
time
for
me
If
we
gotta
buss,
than
I
know
tha
b*tch
a
die
for
me
I
ain
lying
bout
dis
sh*t,
I
could
show
u
U
throwing
dirt
on
my
name,
that's
what
hoes
do
Who
ever
dissin
on
the
bros,
they
some
hoes
too
Why
the
f*ck
u
speaking
on
our
names,
we
don
know
you,
b*tch

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