I turn your mans n them, into mannequins,
I throw rims on trucks you can stand up in.
Its jems in my Bannon bracelot,
If I wear it to long, I have to get my arm amputated.
Haters, I clap ya up,
Cass'll put your stomach on the ground like bad pushups.
I get mashed up, get a glock n two .40's
n show up to your spot like its a costume party.
Im sorry, but I sold more crack than albums,
I red dot your face like acne problems.
N I clap revolvers the shelves dont fall,
I got bulletproof vests that velcro off.
You aint sell no raw, I actually did,
I got shit on lock 'ock i need a laxitive.
Ladies, show my how nasty you is,
Cus after this we goin' back to Cassidy crib.
What 'chu want? I get this muf**ka cruck, Get up,
We gettin' drunk n the muf**kin blunts lit up.
But don't front n let a muf**ka pump shit up,
You'll get slumped when this muf**kin pump lift up.
these lyrics are submitted by Matt Pellerin
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