Young Dro - I'm Sick'ud lyrics

Get cool
Aye, ya know what they be talkin bout
When they say I'm sick'ud man?
I had to make this one shawty
I'm talkin' 'bout fo'real
Ya know we be ballin to the point where
We can't take it no mo' man

Man I've been ballin' to the
Point where I'm sick'ud
Kush steady fallin' out the
Blunt and I'm sick'ud
These hoes tryin' to pull
Stunts and I'm sick'ud
Grand Hustle make a million e'ry mont'
I'm sick'ud man I've been ballin' to tha
Point where I'm sick'ud
Kush steady fallin' out tha
Blunt and I'm sick'ud
These hoes tryin' to pull
Stunts and I'm sick'ud
Grand Hustle make a million e'ry mont'
I'm sick'ud

Fuck that, I'm sick'ud, fish scale prickly
This got irene cuts, I want a stick 'ud
Hoes can't trick'ud
My dick they lick the tip'ud
Everyday they test the choppa
They can get tha whole clip'ud
Twenty-nine bitch! don't forget to
Add an inch'ud
30 inch Ashanti, I'm muthafuckin sick'ud
Yea that shit was smokin
But, I'd rather have this bud
Ya broad gave me the pussy
She ain't want nothin but a key for'ud
Drama, I am here for'ud
+King+ like +Clifford+ +Best Thang Smokin+
Gon' take a damn whiff of'ud
Cocaine game, everybody want a sniff of'ud
Young Dro, e'rybody holla I'm sick'ud

Man I've been ballin' to the
Point where I'm sick'ud
Kush steady fallin' out the
Blunt and I'm sick'ud
These hoes tryin' to pull
Stunts and I'm sick'ud
Grand Hustle make a million e'ry mont'
I'm sick'ud man I've been ballin' to tha
Point where I'm sick'ud
Kush steady fallin' out tha
Blunt and I'm sick'ud
These hoes tryin' to pull
Stunts and I'm sick'ud
Grand Hustle make a million e'ry mont'
I'm sick'ud

Sick'ud believe me, ridin down Peach Street
ATL and Dro
I just be hatin where the reefer be
I can turn a block
And check a bitch who got a G for me
I can hear 'em charge black
Legacy wit Cecil "C" cBE the click
That's where that bad ass reefer be
Bottom of the list
That's where them mad ass people be
Jag color cream of wheat
Lyrics come in fever heat
Diamonds on my daughter neck
Same color as Tweety Tweet
I can make the heater breathe
Hanging out the Beemer Jeep
Bitches say they fuck wit Dro
But they ain't never seen a "G"
Drop top, green Chevy
Thang look like a pickle too
Ridin through the hood
All them hoes be like
"I'm sick of youuuuuuu!"

Man I've been ballin' to the
Point where I'm sick'ud
Kush steady fallin' out the
Blunt and I'm sick'ud
These hoes tryin' to pull
Stunts and I'm sick'ud
Grand Hustle make a million e'ry mont'
I'm sick'ud man I've been ballin' to tha
Point where I'm sick'ud
Kush steady fallin' out tha
Blunt and I'm sick'ud
These hoes tryin' to pull
Stunts and I'm sick'ud
Grand Hustle make a million e'ry mont'
I'm sick'ud

When it come to ballin
I'm sick wit the cheese
The charm on my neck, cost 8, 000 three's
(jumpers)
I'll sting a nigga, like 8, 000 bees (bzzzz)
And gettin to the money here, 8, 000 keys
(that's my dough)
And tryin Dro, is like tryin 8, 000 me's
(that's a bunch of people)
Juve' cool, but this shit here is 8
000 degrees (wassup Juve)
I moved up out the hood
To a lakehouse in Belize (where you go?)
I poison fake playas
And make 'em break out in disease (uuughhh)
Bullets blow like a breeze
When they take off for ya knees (pow! pow)
223's knock yo playas arms
Straight of ya sleeves (where my arm go?)
Shawty please, I'm the sniper
Plus I'm tha greatest
I'm sick of you, ya'll niggas
Need to stop hatin man, dROOOOOO!

Man I've been ballin' to the
Point where I'm sick'ud
Kush steady fallin' out the
Blunt and I'm sick'ud
These hoes tryin' to pull
Stunts and I'm sick'ud
Grand Hustle make a million e'ry mont'
I'm sick'ud man I've been ballin' to tha
Point where I'm sick'ud
Kush steady fallin' out tha
Blunt and I'm sick'ud
These hoes tryin' to pull
Stunts and I'm sick'ud
Grand Hustle make a million e'ry mont'
I'm sick'ud

I'm sick of you, I'm sick Of you
I'm sick of you, I'm sick of you
I'm sick, I'm-I'm-I'm sick
I'm sick, I'm-I'm-I'm sick
I'm sick of you, I'm sick of you
I'm sick of you, I'm Sick of you
I'm sick of you, I'm sick Of you
I'm sick of you, I'm sick of you
I'm sick of you - DROOOOOO!