Lyrics Who? - Zoe Forte
Who!
Who
better
than
me
Who
you
kno
do
it
better
than
me
Not
a
man
not
a
soul
not
a
thing
I'm
the
man,
I'm
a
boss,
I'm
a
king
Who
you
kno,
wid
the
drip
like
this
My
juice
double
S
like
Ssips
Double
D's
on
the
chest
of
my
bitch
Double
V's
and
a
S
on
my
wrist
I
live
in
the
trap
and
I
trap
wile
I
rap
Hustle
all
day
just
to
double
double
up
I
don't
trust
these
niggaz
cuz
they
be
some
rats
Trade
they
mans
for
a
couple
bucks
I
took
the
knife
out
my
back
I'm
lucky
for
that
cuz
niggaz
is
cut
throat
I
kno
my
haters
be
mad
But
it's
still
a
fact
Gonna
show
me
the
upmost
Funny
how
niggas
be
talkin
And
soon
as
I
walk
in
Suddenly
shut
his
mouth
Niggaz
be
stretching
the
truth
But
they
know
how
I
do
Yea
they
kno
what
I'm
all
about
My
worst
is
you
at
your
best
You
wanna
impress
But
you
stressing
ya
self
out
Home
of
the
Yankees
and
Mets
But
I
ball
like
the
nets
Out
in
Brooklyn
we
cash
out
I
break
the
bank
and
collect
They
checking
my
cred
Like
the
streets,
boy
I'm
on
730
I'll
put
a
foot
on
ya
neck
So
don't
disrespect
Clear
the
scene
Imma
do
em
dirty
Gun
drawn
then
I'm
shooting
em
dead
We
don't
aimed
for
the
leg
Run
down
and
I
shoot
w
perpose
And
no
we
don't
tolerate
threats
Now
off
with
ya
head
Guillotine
all
the
unworthy
(Pop
shit...)
I
just,
Roll
the
dice
for
the
poker
chips
I
need,
blue
stripes
and
a
half
a
zip
I
just,
named
a
price
made
the
money
flip
Big
facts,
2 for
4 but
I
charge
em
6
Big
Bank
take
lil
bank
I
puff,
Big
smoke
with
a
lil
drink
Thick
bitch
with
a
lil
waists
There's
more,
Perkey
tits
and
a
pretty
face
I
got,
6 shots
in
the
38
I
rep,
6-7
first
48
I'm
the
shit
money
toilette
pap
ahh
Pay
me
now
don't
pay
me
late-tuhh
Who!
Who
better
than
me
Who
you
kno
do
it
better
than
me
Not
a
man
not
a
soul
not
a
thing
I'm
the
man,
I'm
a
boss,
I'm
a
king
Who
you
kno
gettin
money
like
this
Daytime
still
on
graveyard
shift
Game
time
james
harden
w
the
wrist
Head
crack
that's
a
4-5-6
Money
and
violence,
Lights
and
the
sirens
Cross
the
wrong
street
and
ya
done
Fly
like
a
pilot,
Should
be
a
stylist
Dress
you
like
you
was
my
son
Not
with
the
acting
not
with
the
capping
Let
Unless
it's
cap
one
Go
in
ya
pocket
Like
what's
in
your
wallet
I'm
taking
all
of
your
funds
Niggaz
do
a
whole
lotta
talkin
out
the
ass
But
the
words
seem
to
neva
mean
shit
Try
to
put
ya
hands
in
my
bag
That's
a
foot
in
yo
ass
So
far
you
can
reach
it
I
just
think
it's
funny
how
you
say
you
gettin
money
And
ya
pockets
speakin
totally
different
See
I'm
the
nigga
with
the
cash
Got
you
salty
niggas
mad
my
bank
account
be
look
so
damn
privileged
(Damn)
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