
lyrics: FTE in the buildin, Young star JR, Big Fruit on the beat, Look here. I got what ya'll been waitin for, We do it for fun part four, It's Mr. Too cold, I'm so far from a rapper, And you can wipe me down Cause I'm so low backwards, I'm all in yo hood, Window down with tha heater, All these shells on my seat, Like I spilled velveta, See you a senorita, And you lookin for a tipper, Still dancin on yo singles, You a motha fuckin stripper, See we gon shoot, God damn you can bet it, Got a whole lot of clips, But none of my thugs can edit, I think I got a fettish, For blow jobs and shit, Joker junior in my pants, Let your girl babysit, Two tears And a pair of yo bars so weak You don't even need bail, (faggot) No line for us, No problem at the door, We got champaign for pearl seekers, I spend more, Mississippi on the map, No it's not up for sa, Jack town waddup, Do is one big sinnigag, I can have you appauled, And sick as a fucking dog, Playin school with your girl, I'm confiscating her draws, Hotel rooms, W we scene, Jr called swith, And now it's a tag team, See where your from green lights mean go, But where I'm from blue lights mean GO! Ya know? Cause I don't want no more jail time. I'm tryin to stay ahead Of the law like time. We gettin money now, Buddy why would I lie, All this bread I shoulda Bought a whole pack of twist ties, I might front that, Just dependin on what to spent. Don't got my cash, The blood is the payment. You do it for the money, I do this shit for <b>...</b>
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brandon
WHITEBOY