Stone, Birdman, Cadillac - Whatever lyrics

Baller Blockin' nigga I don't give a fuck
When it's on, it's on
We got Baby, Lac and Stone in this bitch

I'm a neighborhood superstar
I'll cook anything from a ki of coke
To a gram of that boyd
Niggas scoring Glocks like brand
New Hot Boy Reeboks
On my blocks stepping 'em up
With grams and rocks
If anything been scoring from me
It was ten a ki
I let my l'il round hustle as
Long as they score for me

Look if I pull up on the
Block knowing the set was mine
No more hand-to hand contact
I'm known for supplying
Since I opened up this set 'chea


This how it's gon' be
Ain't nobody selling shit nigga
Unless it's for me

All I know is crack
Slanging and block hanging
On the corner front the store, doing my thang
These niggas know my game, how I do my thang
Water whip I can't do
But whole thangs I slang

Now I'ma pay all my foot
Soldiers and tell 'em, "Stay focused"
And front all the street hustlers
And keeping 'em posted
That white and that blue car
We call 'em the law
And the dirt that my niggas do
Is done in the dark

Got lil' woadie running water and we
'bout to cook these quarters
The twenty under the seat for
My son and my daughter the water hot enough
Start cooking these quarters
These niggas want it hard, and I understand

If I pull up dressed in all black
With a boot in my mouth
Cause a nigga didn't pay 'Lac
And I know that he sold out
Put something in my street sweeper
And run in his house
Knock a hole up out his pa chest
And a tongue out his ma mouth

A ki stashed up and I'm gettin' 'em all
I got a stash put up for
The drought in the fall

Hot Boys vacating the pop, can back shit up
The Feds call my 'hood a Payday
'cause it's packed with nuts
Ghetto rich money stashed in
The mansions bruh i got them kis
Ten a ki from Fresh and Atrice bruh

I know niggas think bad 'cause
The people ride fast
I got 5 strikes, I'm going out with a blast
Cash in your life nigga when
You playing with me
I'll give you work, break ya off ya face BG

Cadillac's the name I run with
So call me Seville
Push a platinum Escalade truck
With 20 inch wheels
Now the Jag you saw me driving
That's for everyday stuntin'
Loud pipes, big rims
So you can see when I'm coming

I don't give a fuck nigga
Ain't no rules in the streets
You know money come first
The other bullshit weak
I don't wanna hear no stories about my cheese
You violate nigga, your family gon' grieve

Headbuster Alva Stone, ya heard me dog
And everytime ya heard my name
It was a murder involved
I just rap to clear my name
And smuggle bundles of that raw
Always rap so what you lames
Suburb and that car

Saratoga and I ride
I represent to the fullest
Ain't nobody pulling strangs here
Unless that I pull it
If a nigga put a hit out
Believe that I took it
In the cost Bible murders
Was OD-ing and bullets

All i know is gun slanging and head banging
Too many disrespected, and lived to sang it
Drop change like a motherfucker
Fuck them niggas
If a nigga outta line, motherfuck that nigga

Type of nigga who'll bat a bitch
And then wait on her pa
Type of nigga who'll do a snitch
Broad day in the park
I'm one of them niggas that don't bring
It still buy up the bulk
Like Rob Deniero, Rob Banks
And bang out with the law

Look here I come from the projects
And the ghetto streets
I'm cooking up whole thangs
'til they hard like concrete
I fronted the OGs, a bag of that OZs
For niggas that don't know
I got something woadie

The same ol' nigga just a different game
Fuck bitches, tote heat
Things never gon' change
I'm the number one stunna, nigga
Baby's the name
I like cooking crack and watch
How quick it come back

I rock a oyster-faced Rollie with
The crust out bang
Ice cover the wrist whodie like
I sprung my hand
I sport Prowlers, whips with the TVs playing
Iceberg, Prada dick, like here come the man

I'll pull up at Washington Six in a six
I'll slide out quick
Bet I could fuck any bitch

I push a lavender Porsche Carerra
Seat sprayed leather
The top goes off and on to
Floss with the rainy weather
The seats they came customized
They made by Ricarro
A ruby red CL5, I'll cop by tomorrow

For catching me on the interstate drunk
Running the law
With a bitch in my lap tasting my balls
I don't like when they too much
Act like they stuck up
Leave Atrice nut up, I'll bat that bitch up

The king of the Nolia I crowd both the wrists
Lock down slanging towns
Took the top off the six
In the club I be thugged
With ten topless chicks
T-shirt, Girbauds, Reeboks in it

Killa, ain't no stopping it
Off top, can't pop this bitch
You know what I'm saying
Baller Blockin' you understand
New Edition of Cash Money some real Hot Boys
Believe it woadie