Top Songs By 509 BMG
Lyrics
Crackers get behind me, then I'm getting shifty
I be posted up like I'm Zach Randolph on the Memphis Grizzlies
Lil Jefe pop up out the cut, he got that fucking fifty
Even on they best day, **** ain't fucking with me
We got chopsticks when we maneuver through the city
Catch a **** outside with his bitch, and shoot her in her titty
If I call my **** Kold Korp, then shit get frigid
I want that bitch, I want her friend, I'm really not that picky
I got military sticks, I'm highly decorated
Better mind ya own, cause I could bring these bitches where ya layin
I bucked the jack on that ****, I told him, see you later
I ain't never seen y'all in the trenches, y'all is not my neighbors
Junkie hit the dope, that shit look like construction paper
I could double that with my eyes closed, give a fuck what you makin
We got sticks for all that slick talk, what you sayin, ****
I'm screaming fuck the pigs, but I'm still bringing home the bacon
I'm screaming fuck the pigs, but I'm still bringing home the bacon
I been saucing on these fuck, the **** kickin' flavor
20 hoes inside my crib, I feel like Flavor Flavor
That **** flexing like he got it, bitch I bet I take it
And I'm still on the same shit, even if I never make it
That bitch say she ain't trying to wait, she trying to have a baby
I could sell a bitch a dream like mules and 40 acres
I'm dropping dick inside, that hoe sound like the earth quakin
.45 off the hip, it's singin' like Anita Baker
If I was a Pokemon, I'll probably be Rayquaza ****
I can't leave without the G, feel like a Freemason
These **** sweet as fuck, I don't know why they talking crazy
I was taught to get the bag like a trash man
Heard 12 was coming, ducked it off, in the trash can
Lil Jefe pop up out the cut and drop the mask man
If you catch a ****, then you better dump the mag, man
BMG, I feel like Future, I got Freebandz
I don't do this shit for the fame, I do it for my fans
And for my **** doing day for day in that can
All that faking **** doing, I don't understand
My **** said he ain't have shit, I put it in his hands
Pussy ****, front your move, I'll leave ya where ya stand
I'm gone!
Written by: 509 BMG, Fooly Fooly