The Jacka, Joe Blow, Berner - 17708 lyrics

Yea, the JA this that MOB shit nigga
Drought season aye

They say you only cry when you know you wrong
And every time you see me it's
Like you need a loan
But, you fall off every time I put you on
Guess you all lost tryna come up from my song
Fuck this rap shit, when it's war nigga
Every time I see them suckas
Gotta pull the trigger
Said you paid me for that
Coke but I don't remember
Guess I run through so much dope
They think I'm gon' forget it
I never notice, but I'm always focused
So I'm smokin Jokers, let em know it's real
Everybody know us and they scared as hell
Cause they never show up when I come around
Man I'mma po up, the President want
Me to dumb it down, but before I slow up
I'll gun you down with this K I roll with
Seen every but this one the coldest

I'm a hustlah, a black entrepreneur
Nigga it's the MOB
Throwin kush bricks on the floor
All night countin paper got my hands hurtin
Lean in my cup
Drought season and I got the work in
Trappin hard, gettin money
Thats my motto nigga
One phone call feel the wrath
Of a fuckin killa
1-7-7-0-8 you niggas gotta feel us
The streets, a fuckin gorilla

Sumthin 09 with the roof in the trunk
A 2 seater with the ruger in front
Sippin promethazine rollin up kush in a blunt
I'm with the MOB I can have
Bush touched if I want
In my 95 Air Max and Dolce Gabbanas
10 racks worth of ice fresh from
Money to the ceiling what a wonderful feeling
On the couch smokin
Countin on a quarter of a million
In the streets tryna fit a
Quarter ounce in a Sweet
I know niggas that'll kill ya for
A ounce of that lean
And won't sleep till they touch
A hundred thousand a week
Benz same color as a Long Island ice tea
Long nose 44 under the white tee
Scrapin' with a few young
Shooters that's like me
My muscle in the streets think
You packin that Type T
Ridin with no L's in the K, then duck
Strike three

I'm a hustlah, a black entrepreneur
Nigga it's the MOB
Throwin kush bricks on the floor
All night countin paper got my hands hurtin
Lean in my cup
Drought season and I got the work in
Trappin hard, gettin money
Thats my motto nigga
One phone call feel the wrath
Of a fuckin killa
1-7-7-0-8 you niggas gotta feel us
The streets, a fuckin gorilla

OG Kush and baby blue pills got
Me feelin like a mil
Plug it in and press seal
We don't send em in the mail
I put em on the truck 50 at a time
I'ma shine till they lock me up
Cuz just got out, the word is he's ready
And he's right back in the
Burbs with the reggie
Set up shop, the only ones with the keisha
The purp's a little cheaper
I dump em and I re-up
East cookin cream up while
I'm countin this cash
On the floor there's a mountain of cash
Downstairs, 20 light on my plants
Just a couple of weeks
Til I have a hundred grand in my hands
The smell of money keeps my mind right
It's been a long night
I got a long ride home but it's all right
When I touchdown there's more
Work there for me
I risk my life everyday, say a pray for me

I'm a hustlah, a black entrepreneur
Nigga it's the MOB
Throwin kush bricks on the floor
All night countin paper got my hands hurtin
Lean in my cup
Drought season and I got the work in
Trappin hard, gettin money
Thats my motto nigga
One phone call feel the wrath
Of a fuckin killa
1-7-7-0-8 you niggas gotta feel us
The streets, a fuckin gorilla