Richtown Butter, Icewear Vezzo - IUR Flow lyrics

Hold on, hah bitch
Fuck is wrong with u dumbass niggas, hold on
Damn, Max real gang shit, hold on
I don't even gon' start this bitch back
But I'll just talk crazy on
This bitch nigga no cap
(You hard as hell dog)

Nigga free Lil Kodak yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah

I don't do no robbin' niggas do
Fuck I'm supposed to patrol
What the fuck these niggas wanna do
(For real) laugh at that
This dumbass nigga know I set that play
Even when we at the curb, bitch we got 2 K
Bitch, Michael Actson
You better hold not fucking there
Cause he gon' clap somethin'
Niggas ain't been shootin' no videos
Now I'm back hungry
My dog must've got some money
Cause he actin' back phony (Huh)
Nigga I ain't no, but I be rollin' with them
I'm with gang, we off them percs
I be rollin' with them
If it's us, I be rollin' with them
It be hard to function
I can't focus if it ain't drugs in my system
Threw a terrier on the chop, imma 'em
I can't even catch, get 'em
Like why dick sucking? Show fake love
You got a gang full of hoes, nigga
Y'all fake thugs
Bitch, me and my CEO, we'll crash out
I just dropped a couple of bowls
Off at the stank house
We'll fuck around and leave a
Nigga stanking in the house
All my niggas really with that shit
Fuck you talkin' bout? We in my hood
We walk niggas in and we walk 'em out
If a nigga talk down, damn
Bro already walked him down
Nigga you heard my fuckin' price
Nigga don't try to talk me down
I was bored locked in school teacher
Now I'm chalkin' out
Give a fuck who was talkin'
Damn don't give a fuck bout now
If a nigga come out way I'm
Coming with a hundred rounds
We should put a opp in the bow
That's a couple pounds
We ain't even want to smoke that nigga
Shipped him out of town
My dog really out of shit
Don't get loud with us
We ain't come to play ball
We'll get foul with you
(Hold on, hold on, hold on)
Somebody put a opp in the wood
And get loud with you

Yeah run up on him with that cannon
Make him run from me
I'll up that Drac' on niggas'
Babies for that young money
I'm finna do a walkthrough
They got a dub for me
Treat the trap like my playground
Now I got club money i'm from Detroit, fuck
You might not understand
Count that paper that's two mil in cash
I need double hands freaky bitch
Finna pop that pussy like a rubber band
Hit my show, jump right on the stage
I snuck cutter in iced Up Records
Yeah, we the new Cash Money
Fuck that, we the new Death Row
Come sell a slab for me
Cut a bricky, jumping off the scale
Look like cab money
Got a skinny bitch, but she got money
Bought that ass for me
Hundred rounds pokin' out my shirt
This the blicky dance
Water in my rollie look retarded
Call it Chicken Man
I just got some head in VIP
Gotta fix my pants
We caught a opp lackin' in the club
Nigga tripped and ran
I want 50 for a show, yeah
That's my new price
Sign a million dollar record deal
And I bought new ice
Real drank legend in my city
I sold Lou pints
Met a bitch and hit her the first day
She spent two nights

Hmm, yeah freaky hoe
She spent two nights