Baby Smoove - Overtime lyrics

(E-Enrgy made this one)

My bitch real bad, she a ten and some
VVS and Diors, gimme coochie and gums
One in the head, ain't a hunnid round, that's a one-on-one
Rollin' with them Glocks in Atlanta, yeah, one-of-one
You the type to see me with a Perc' and ask for the half
You the type to buy a gram, not a pound and a half
I was in the hall makin' sales, nigga, fuck class
Nigga asking for a feature, I'ma take his whole stash
I only like models, all my bitches got a bag
I know I be rappin', but I still get on your ass
Nigga, you a pussy, you be givin' niggas passes
I won't shoot you in the mall, I'll smack your face off the glass
Original Band Crew, at fifteen, had it tatted
No cap, I'm really rich like that boy who own the Mavericks
No overtime needed, we gon' leave him where it happened
Three-five in my 'Wood, you lil' bum niggas match it
When I leave out the house, I wear a Cuban and a chopper
I know I'm a rapper, but I slide when it's a problem
Crack the seal on a pint, filled up my baby bottle
I don't like how he lookin', so his car, I'ma follow
The day I see cuz, I'm puttin' ten in your face
I'm really neighborhood, these niggas faker than they chains
Rich roller, franchise, basketball, fo' gang
If TG don't like you, then we takin' niggas chains
I really sip syrup, this ain't start yesterday
Got a switch on my choppa, this the boppa-dop K
I look it as respect when I don't say it to your face
I sleep in a palace, it's a really big place
I really love the drink, so I put a ring on it
You the type to have a court and don't put your team on it
Niggas really rats, they just got the cheese on 'em
I came on her face, I be leavin' me on her
AMG Benzes, Cartier lenses
The whole hood wave when I'm ridin' through the trenches
I got rich in a couple seconds, it ain't take a minute
I know you wanna dress like me, but I'm privileged
Lame nigga in my lane, get his ass dunked on
I love Apple for them watches and they iPhones
One tap of the gas in this car and I'm gone
I promise he ain't really tough, he just got a cut song
I really get dressed, these niggas try to copy
Spin that chop like a butterfly, sting like Ali
Brewer hat with the glove, niggas know how we rockin'
He wearin' his chains off the neck 'cause he know we gon' drop in
(Wearin' his chains off the, 'cause he)

Yeah
Franchise shit
Mm, mm, mm