Credits
Lyrics
I can’t move with out my hammer
A **** play then I’m goin nail’em
Ain’t gotta drive to get it off just send it through bet we gone mail’em
I bet they listen when we talk, I bet they listen when we speak
Had to tell yo hoe get out the spot that bitch a super freak
Ain’t gotta look inside my eyes for you to tell I’m Supa Geek’D
Bro ain’t never left the city you can tell he super street
I can’t leave with out my fiddy, I can’t leave with out my blicky
Don’t try to run you can’t get away gone go out like you Ricky
My brother dropped a bag tryna get you touched just like P-Diddy
If I go I’m goin blazin if I leave you coming wit me
You catch 8 just like the QB for the ravens it get sticky
Gotta get rich I’m gettin tired of all this slavin shit get risky
I put 2-8 in a bag now it’s a egg on top yo biscuit
Bro on a mission he tryna knock em off I bet lil bro won’t miss it
Swing the stick just like this shit top golf we aim it at his fitted
Glock 22 they call me Andrew they say Big Cho be Wiggin
Knock the paper out the police hand I’m tryna punch the ticket
In the streets betta tie yo shoelace I heard these **** trippin
They say Big Cho he too wavy that’s why he always drippin
Don’t fuck with **** they be two-faced that’s why I’m never friendly
Go to war behind my brother for him I’ll give up my kidney
Tryna keep my head above water but I swear this shit get tricky
Making plays while I’m in Houston this choppa singing just like Whitney
I was sleep I heard my brother died it sent me in a frenzy
I can’t move with out my hammer
A **** play then I’m goin nail’em
Ain’t gotta drive to get it off just send it through bet we gone mail’em
I bet they listen when we talk, I bet they listen when we speak
Had to tell yo hoe get out the spot that bitch a super freak
Ain’t gotta look inside my eyes for you to tell I’m Supa Geek’D
Bro ain’t never left the city you can tell he super street
I can’t leave with out my fiddy, I can’t leave with out my blicky
Don’t try to run you can’t get away gone go out like you Ricky
My brother dropped a bag tryna get you touched just like P-Diddy
If I go I’m goin blazin if I leave you coming wit me
You catch 8 just like the QB for the ravens it get sticky
Gotta get rich I’m gettin tired of all this slavin shit get risky
Written by: Jordan Allen
