What They Hittin' Foe?

Fucking around in a crap game

**** think I'm soft

'Cause now I'm in the rap game

And I don't hang out as much

Bang out dope cuts

Standing on stage and I'm grabbing my nuts

But when it some to getting in a circle

I'm hitting 7's, turning broke **** purple

Looking for Little Joe and the

Dumb **** scream and choke

When deuce-deuce hit the floor, yo

Now which of y'all want to fade the twenty ?

I'm turning your fat pockets skinny

Ah yeah, I'm shaking the ivory

And boom, it's like they die for me

Fool, you can get loud, get mad, hit the joint

But don't forget my point

There it is, yo

I put my Nike on the bet so it won't slide

Money gone 'cause I never hittin' deuce-five

I'm never hitting four-trey no way

You want to leave, but come on hoe, stay

Ugh, ****, fever, that'll work

Poppa needs brand-new shoes and a sweatshirt

Fool, you can't even fuck with that

And now that I'm winning, I gots to get my gat

'Cause I see your homies starting to look

And broke mother fuckers, they make the best crooks

And I'm feeling like a baller

Bucking fools, now the circle's getting smaller

Now you want to go and scheme

Punk **** like you just love to triple team

So I pick up my money and start walking

'Cause now I let the gat start talking

Now, since y'all lost, you wanna go out like a sucka

Take that motherfuckers