FLA Allstars preview

Aight, come on man
Man, I don't know about this shit, man
Come on, stop acting like a bitch, I know he ain't here
Man, how you know?
Come on, let's go
Man, fuck

Shh, shh, shh. There's the dog, watch the dog
Man, I'm just fucking with you, that's me!
That shit is not funny!
Aw, bitch. Come on, let's go to the safe. Yeah
"Keep saying I ain't putting out the mixtape till it's ready

I ain't putting it out till it's ready. Motherfucker, it's ready
Let me get this shit. Yeah, that's it right there
Man, I think I hear somebody coming!
Man, stop fucking grabbing me! Let's go, let's do this!
Man, let's go!

Yeah, if you ain't got a pen then baby girl you ain't a dime
I refuse to wife you, boy, I'd rather run a dime
There's too many of your kind, you can't hit me with that lie
It's been a long time, aw bitch, I know you lying
Bitch, I'm some real ass gangster

Where I'm from, the 352, who the who?
Some got it in the soft zone, but the niggas with this
Gotta represent rather flash and get bypassed
On the come-up for nothing real, talking about something
Fuck that bullshit you bumping, this shit real around here
Niggas kill around here, you pray to see another day
Hey, move out the way if you slow, ho

In the parking lot with my system on blast
Wilding out, bitch, fuck who get mad
Pump my Chevy, open up the door
And let that bitch talk to your motherfucking ho

Going off in the club, top me a bottle
Get fucked up and try to pump me a model
Smoked up on that good green kush
It's rather than this shit, but fuck George Bush

I'm grimy, I'm grimy, I'm a gutter, I'm a gutter
Pimp ass, pimp ass, I'm a hustler, I'm a hustler
I'm a lover, I'm a lover, I'm a mack, I'm a mack
For real cuz, I thug it like that
For real cuz, I thug it like that
For real cuz, I thug it like that
For real cuz

Don't hate, just play the game how it go
Get money, fuck hoes, pop bottles, blow dro
Show love, bust slugs, you can't even mug a G
You ain't gotta like my swag, dog, I'm still doing me

Don't hate, just play the game how it go
Get money, fuck hoes, pop bottles, blow dro
Show love, bust slugs, you can't even mug a G
You ain't gotta like my swag, dog, I'm still doing me

To the block, it's P repping Cruz
Saint John on rock, well you know the game plan, stay on top
We got spots they call them fine while red over our mop

And the catch straps stock up, ARs and Glocks
I cop, see how quick you get dropped, it's Mr. Black Jack Sparrow
God drive-through block we call Crack-Donald's
Keep a big Mac man, run a axe, Ronald Shot

Oh Shit, i think you lose whenever everything that I had I then lost
From my brother, to my job, to my chick, and my house
And nineteen kicked out because I chose the street route
Me and real watch the streets when the niggas holler "doubt"

Hey, I start the day with a prayer and a plan for a dollar
Swallow straight out the bottle, hoping to fade the sorrow
Tomorrow ain't promised, so honestly speaking on this is irrelevant
'Cause it ain't no telling that when you dwelling in it

So I do this for the hard living and for those who don't know what it's like
To be part prison, so for the homies still in prison y'all rest your head
And the homies no longer living, God bless the dead
Keep it bloody, let the Mac talk, fuck the money

Had to tried a thousand times, I can't do it no more, I can't do it no more
Had to tried a thousand times
What a ghouls that stand up, let them know, huh?

Get your mind right, get your mind right
Get your, get your, get your, get your mind right
Get your, get your, get your, get your mind right
Get your, get your, get your

Get back, don't mess with my stack
Get back, don't mess with my stack
Get back, don't mess with my stack
Get back, don't mess with my stack

Get back, get back, get back, get back
Get back, get back, get back, get back
Get back, get back, get back, get back
Get back, get back, get back, get back

Stand up if you about ten dollars, I'm telling you now that you can get back
Fully strapped-like it's Bro with the Villain, cocaine cap and Chris Cax
Oh, I'm telling you now that it's on fire
I see them in the 'Bron
That's fully aqua money on the mines, get it how we know

A perpetual paper chase from pimp-pimpin' the powder-pushing
Putting-pushing-putting pussy on the back burner
'Cause it's purse first and ass last, so get back
I never lost a party young and flirty trying to chase cash
Put a bet I lose that stash, I'm a chase a badge

But I was baked with a bag of pips so uh-uh-uh none of that
Plus fully fleeted with heaters, you don't believe us
Till you meet Mr. and Mrs. Millimeter, Chrome Desert Eagle
But it really ain't gotta be like that
Just back-back, you're too close to my wholesale rack