448 Grams Lyrics

To Hell with these lil niggas they ain't slappin

We got purp and brown

Its some white around anglo saxon

Nggas talkin bout

What they gone do and how

My head I scratch it

Gotta hunnid round

And I ain't backin down

Know i'ma blast it

Trappin in designer like i'm Escobar

He claim he dealin I can't see it he ain't gotta car

I'm posted with yo bitch in this whip ceiling fulla stars

Necklace fulla voss

I'ma boss

You dyin if you cross

I get the package off and hit the loft start countin pape n shit

I laugh and thank the man that let me wake and get my pockets thick

I'm really lit the reason niggas sick i think its obvious

My tolerance for any sucka shit is nonexistent

Niggas no names

Claim they move thangs but really the help

I keep on swimmin ain't no dorthy lil nigga i'm Michael Phelps

Since its money y'all scared to get don't even trip i'll get it myself

When I touched 50 thou I can't describe the way I felt

Scared money do not make nun

Better keep yo gun

Especially if you stackin and fuck with metric tons

Gotta stay on Ps & Qs

When you on the move

Police like we heard that you that dude

Think you misconstrued

Stacks pape

Shake the jakes

No speeding on freeways

Thats the only way

(Tryna put you boys on game)

I got precautions I can't say cause my phone still bang

Last thing I need is them to get the sauce to lock the gang

Aye look honestly

You know some shit that always fucked with me

How you clueless on gettin money but know all the tea

How the niggas that shot you chillin but its smoke with me

I'm hella lost and so will you niggas so tread lightly

Southwest shit

I got blick

Tell a nigga catch this lick

Glocks & teks extended clips

trunk filled up with bows & bricks

Junky bitch she goin through withdrawals she tryna gobble dick

No thank you love

And please don't touch the fit because it cost some shit

I'm chosen switchin lanes in range roves and

The whip cost about 100 more than what your in

Been hit the road before the talk about some tourin

Since the day I was born my mama knew that i'd be soaring

I'm paranoid laid up with this big bitch like Norbit

Never ran off on the plug thats some

poor shit

You get a sack and run to the gram to record flicks

When you really from that ain't no need to validate shit