Boldy James, Jarren Benton, Problem - How Much lyrics

Boldy blocks (How are you?) 227 (Only us)
Concreatures (Game time) hell block (Mafia)
Detroit (What else?) let's Get it

There's some hoes in this house (Go)
That's my five dolla ho
There's some hoes in this house (Go)
How much I gotta blow?

I'm working out that bag that you
Wish you had your hand in
Lying in your raps about some shit
Me and my man lived
Back when I was coming up
Hit's me and my fam did
Nigga you was never one of us
You was hand fed paying 40 for the lean and
Niggas on they last leg
I keep that 40 with the
Beamer, don't have 40, ask Viz
How I'm cut? My niggas drilling
Don't believe me? Ask Dez
Shot him up and didn't kill 'em
But I left him half dead
Woke up out that coma, popping SOMAs
On his death bed got up on his good foot and
Hopped up on his bad leg
Cause bullets fly and numbers don't lie
This a math quiz
If you get that bag in, can I get an ad-lib?
Yeeeeaaah me and Yankee cracking crab legs
Up in locals now we up in Strokers
And that ass so fat I need a lap dance
Hamiltons and Jacksons
Came with two, I gave her 20
She gave me back 10 ma, I just gotta know
How much I gotta blow
How much i gotta throw at a five dolla ho
(Let's Get it) ma, I just gotta know (Whoa)
How much I gotta blow (Ok)
How much i gotta throw at a five dolla ho

There's some hoes in this house (Go)
That's my five dolla ho
There's some hoes in this house (Go)
How much I gotta blow?

I ain't scared of a nigga
I ain't regular quick
Got workout, squad a helluva fit
Boy bird fly on some pelican shit
Little bitty nigga with an elephant dick
And these niggas' hoes be loving it
Pull up, shut it down like the government
Banging my gang out in public
And punch a mark nigga for the fuck of it
I'm on that
Out the hood and ain't going back
Don't sweat the past cause that's going back
Say "yes" to cash and
Y'all knowing that what?!
No root when I flow it, count
The poet, y'all know it, i done did the due
On the track, on my toes like a running shoe
Stay grounded like when your
Mamma punished you i'm 100 proof
No matter how you feel about it
Paper never chill about it
If it doesn't count or mean
Another comma in bank
Money, we can't live without it
But I gotta keep it solid
Just because I'm getting it
Don't mean a? ain't a thing
But the way I move, I got it
Five kids and counting you feel me?!
But Imma live this way 'til God or
A young bitch nigga come kill me what?!

Gotta get some hoes in this house
"All Gold Everything"
When you give me head bitch
Keep them golds in your mouth
Weird ass nigga from the eastside
When we pull up on you fuck niggas
Bitch you know what we 'bout
Rappers sound dead in a brand new Bugatti
Murder everything?
Throwing up the A, nigga magna cum laude
Gotta a trust fund for the kids
Muthafuck Versace
Yeah, shit I'm done with these fools
Who the fuck said getting money ain't cool?
I been broke bitch, I couldn't feed my kids
I ain't going back nigga
Shit I'm done with that blues
Feel God when I beast on a tune
These niggas more pussy
Than Reese Witherspoon
If she bust it open she can
Get the keys to my room
If you say my name wrong that
Can lead to your doom
Yeah, nigga word to Big Pun
I told a bitch I'm in the game like Tron
I ain't got the crown yet
But you can call me the king
I be damned, swear to God, man
I feel like one
I learned to adjust to complications
I'm 'bout to progress my situation
Fuck niggas must be the new Cool Kids
That's all I see, these niggas still hating