Rah 2xx - Stylist

The bitch try hit me & talk bout her problems lil baby im busy so I gotta go
This nigga keep sneak dissing & think I aint peep this nigga must really be think Ima hoe
I shot up ya brother, I shot up ya uncle Lil nigga you think that you already know
Pull up with your baby put the car in park make the bitch come & open my door
Step in that bitch so stylish no lil bitch I aint got no stylist
Bitch keep thinking keep saying im cocky, No lil bitch I just know that im Poppin
Marino on back on my ass some Amiris
Frames on my face came from the Versace
Tatted like a migo so they calling me papi
Foot on the gas aint no way that Im stoppin

Every since a youngin I been getting straight to it
Coulda played sports but you know I straight blew it
Chasing all the cash Chasing all the coochie
Thought I was a thug when I listen to the Gucci
Wanted to kill a nigga when I'm listening to that Boosie
Mova going on me she keep calling me stupid
I had different dreams I was getting straight to it
I aint going mumble everything coming fluid
Bitch, Fava got 33 locked ina feds
My brothers influenced like that in my head
Kept me a pistol that bitch full of lead
Want you to hear every word that Im saying
Want you to see why my heart full of pain
Everyday with my crooks aint no way thats going change
Go to hell with my brothers I'd die for the gang
Wrestling ass rapper I know you a lame
I aint going stop lil nigga lil nigga yeah you know that I'm trying get rich
Trying go hit Elliante tell that I got 150 nigga just for my wrist
Skinny nigga keep worrying bout me needa be worried bout your bitch
Meanwhile I'm swiping her visa & making withdrawals did you know that your bitch is a lick
True to this shyt boy I stick to the code
Half these fuck ass nigga done told
Back against the wall you know i never fold
Dont give a fuck what the time dont tell what you know
Playing in these streets boy you cant have a heart
Momma she told me that shyt from the start
Half of these nigga they really be opp
Aint going be no backdoor that shyt locked cos Im smart
Watchu know bout being posted ina trenches you dont gotta choice cos you say you trying get it
Doing all that sneak dissing where you ass at I swea to god im trying get with it
All these jiive' ass turkey just talk sweet but real life I know ya some bitchs
All my niggas be stepping ya flashing them guns ya aint doing no killing

The bitch try hit & talk bout her problems lil baby im busy so I gotta go
This nigga keep sneak dissing & think I aint peep this nigga must really be think Ima hoe
I shot up ya brother, I shot up ya uncle Lil nigga you think that you already know
Pull up with baby put the car in park make the bitch come & open my door
Step in that so stylish no lil bitch I aint got no stylist
Bitch keep thinking keep saying im cocky, No lil bitch I just know that im Poppin
Marino on back on my ass some Amiris
Frames on my face came from the Versace
Tatted like a migo so they calling me papi
Foot on the gas aint no way that Im steppin

Written by:
Jesse Anderson

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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