Serge Ibaka Lyrics

Suuuuuuu

For that plata, hit the block like Serge Ibaka

On my momma, only hit me if it's bout some commas

We went from nada to designer like Gucci, Prada

We chasin' 42 with Fiji we don't do the Casa

For the plata, hit the block like Serge Ibaka

On my momma, only hit me if it's bout some commas

We went from nada to designer like Gucci, Prada

We chasin' 42 with Fiji we don't do the Casa

Growing up the one who had a lil more bread was me

I was the only one in my hood who lunch wasn't free

Paid reduced fares, momma worked hard, was proud of that fact

Only handout she took was free turkeys from Stack

My UC niggas, they know all about that

I learned to roll from Fat Chris and taught myself to cook crack

But I preferred when Scooby cheffed it because he brought it all back

You can feel the 3-Nine in every one of my raps

And I'ma mention son Jordan in every one of my tracks

You ain't successful unless your brother's with you counting up racks

I used to stuff dimes in 12-12 skinnies to trap

I milked the game, 3 for 20s, they ain't jugging like that

For that plata, hit the block like Serge Ibaka

On my momma, only hit me if it's bout some commas

We went from nada to designer like Gucci, Prada

We chasin' 42 with Fiji we don't do the Casa

For the plata, hit the block like Serge Ibaka

On my momma, only hit me if it's bout some commas

We went from nada to designer like Gucci, Prada

We chasin' 42 with Fiji we don't do the Casa