Lyrics MyRatchetFriday - UvierMyGod

Ummm are you leaving this house
Cause I don't know if you're leaving this house
And why is your stuff all packed

I'm so sick of the bullshit
Don't ask if I'm packing a tooly (You know I am)
You only 5 foot six how the fuck you a bully (I know you not)
The beat make y'all feel gangster you ain't rapping bout your life
I always been up in these streets and I ain't seen you one night (Not one night)
I gotta Pistol with a potato, that's a 38. Special
I be doing walk ups and them drive bys in rentals
Yeah it's fuck your dead homies cause they ass was examples
Bitch I sell drugs I ain't doing free samples (You stupid bitch)
I got a different type of struggle baby you couldn't relate (No you can't)
And all them niggas you been fucking, I know that they couldn't hang (They some Busters)
I'm a different type of gangster shorty I ain't gotta bang
And anybody wanna come test it leave em lying by they brains (Free smoke)
Everybody wanna be Debo when it comes to the streets
But they ain't nowhere to be found when it comes to that beef (Where you at tho)
I'm like big worm in this bitch the way I trip over a loan (Where's my money Smokey)
You like pinky's lil bitch ass
Shit that nigga had me scared but I still held my own
Fuck That

Come back or you're gonna live in the streets
Don't live with your friends anymore
Ok bye

I'm Mexican and Salvi so you know I'm born different (You know it dawg)
Her nails be scratching up my back every time that I'm in it (Sheeesh)
All the homies baby mamas yeah they swear I'm a villain (Like really?)
They be blowing up they phones every time that we kick it (Seriously)
They be stressing that they with me
And all we be on is chilling
Unless we see the enemies
Then you that we drilling
I be all over LA
More in the streets than these pigeons (Prrr)
And I stay close to that heat more than a chef in a kitchen
You'd think my name was Tim the way I spend time with these tools
And you would think I was a farmer when I say I got some mules
I know you is a hoe, I watched you get bullied on the playground
I ain't talking bout no checkers when I hit you with this k round
The homegirl could never kick it her baby daddy hate my music
He knows that she do my braids and then she Let me slide in it
I be leaving her with my kids like I'm dropping off children
And i be fucking at the W ion go to no Hilton