Wink Loc, Pusha T, Ra Diggs - Give 'Em Hell lyrics
[Wink Loc, Pusha T, Ra Diggs - Give 'Em Hell lyrics]
Pistols and cocaine
Hubloted off that dope, mane
Pockets full of ghosts off that dope game
Dope chain, dope lane
Made a half a mil off that green thing
Sticky icky, wrap 'em up and ship 'em out
$2, 000 sweatsuit's when I'm steppin' out
Say I'm talkin' money, but I'm livin' life
Like it's my last breath every single night
Violate the team, watch how niggas ride
90 for the Rollie, what I care 'bout time
Presidential faces, watch me stack 'em up
Put 'em in rubber bands when we count 'em up
Money, money, money, that's all niggas know
Posin' with your bitch, I do it all for show
One five told me chill, but I couldn't though
Big bad Crip, I'm unstoppable
Wink lookin' king
Push the best of both worlds
Gangbangin' dope boy, quick to fuck your girl
Pop a molly, pop a perc
Yeah, that's for the hipsters
Blue steel on my waist
It'll have you twitchin'
550 dreamin', panorama on the roof
Foreign coupe, foreign bitch
Gettin' head like whoo
Your big dreams, I'm just livin' it
I'm front row, you just witnessin'
I'm loved by few, respected by all
Hated by many, but none stand tall
You better ride with me, homie
A nigga ride thick
I'm with the big homies of
The Bloods and the Crips
Headshots, red dot, death to all my enemies
Death to everybody tryin' to stop
Me in the industry
I got the hate that the jail cells make
I'mma give these niggas hell
Long as me and God straight
Keep the hundreds
Throw the fives in the fireplace
They say the skin on blowfish
Is an acquired taste
I know it's raw when they
Pupils start to dilate
Flake Griffin, LA clippin' as I dominate
The home is one point somethin'
Like it's diamond weight
See, I ain't have shit now I overcompensate
I don't talk name brands, I talk numbers
Hundred dollar tank tops all summer
Dune buggy S550s all summer
Droppin' bitches off
Screaming fuck your nigga
Beach chair and boat shoes, I relax on 'em
You know I bes with you honey
Like it's wax on 'em
We up in customs, all these racks on him
International baller, ain't no tax on him
Yuugh, it's King Push here with Wink Loc
That means it's 1000 grams or it's gun smoke
Hubloted off that dope, mane
Pockets full of ghosts off that dope game
Dope chain, dope lane
Made a half a mil off that green thing
Sticky icky, wrap 'em up and ship 'em out
$2, 000 sweatsuit's when I'm steppin' out
Say I'm talkin' money, but I'm livin' life
Like it's my last breath every single night
Violate the team, watch how niggas ride
90 for the Rollie, what I care 'bout time
Presidential faces, watch me stack 'em up
Put 'em in rubber bands when we count 'em up
Money, money, money, that's all niggas know
Posin' with your bitch, I do it all for show
One five told me chill, but I couldn't though
Big bad Crip, I'm unstoppable
Wink lookin' king
Push the best of both worlds
Gangbangin' dope boy, quick to fuck your girl
Pop a molly, pop a perc
Yeah, that's for the hipsters
Blue steel on my waist
It'll have you twitchin'
550 dreamin', panorama on the roof
Foreign coupe, foreign bitch
Gettin' head like whoo
Your big dreams, I'm just livin' it
I'm front row, you just witnessin'
I'm loved by few, respected by all
Hated by many, but none stand tall
You better ride with me, homie
A nigga ride thick
I'm with the big homies of
The Bloods and the Crips
Headshots, red dot, death to all my enemies
Death to everybody tryin' to stop
Me in the industry
I got the hate that the jail cells make
I'mma give these niggas hell
Long as me and God straight
Keep the hundreds
Throw the fives in the fireplace
They say the skin on blowfish
Is an acquired taste
I know it's raw when they
Pupils start to dilate
Flake Griffin, LA clippin' as I dominate
The home is one point somethin'
Like it's diamond weight
See, I ain't have shit now I overcompensate
I don't talk name brands, I talk numbers
Hundred dollar tank tops all summer
Dune buggy S550s all summer
Droppin' bitches off
Screaming fuck your nigga
Beach chair and boat shoes, I relax on 'em
You know I bes with you honey
Like it's wax on 'em
We up in customs, all these racks on him
International baller, ain't no tax on him
Yuugh, it's King Push here with Wink Loc
That means it's 1000 grams or it's gun smoke