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Songs | Albums | Album Arts
Lyrics:
Sucka busta, fuck that bitch, riding with some mindless trick On my P's and Q's, I refuse to be broke as shit Sucka busta, fuck that bitch, riding with some mindless trick On my P's and Q's, I refuse to be broke as shit Sucka busta, fuck that bitch, riding with some mindless trick On my P's and Q's, I refuse to be broke as shit Sucka busta, fuck that bitch, riding with some mindless trick On my P's and Q's, I refuse to be broke as shit Sucka busta, fuck that bitch, riding with some mindless trick On my P's and Q's, I refuse to be broke as shit Sucka busta, fuck that bitch, riding with some mindless trick On my P's and Q's, I refuse to be broke as shit Shut the fuck up, bitch, talking shit When the 6-10 splits, get off and take a left on St. Bernard Drive a little bit—then it hits, 'oh shit!' You just drove down the road to Yung Plague's pit With a pit in the yard Feed you to my dog, then I yawn Bury your bones 'till dawn Mow the lawn to make it seem neat like a bed Bitch, I'll sleep when I'm dead Dreaming while they zipping up the body bag From my fucking feet up to my head Sucka busta, fuck that bitch, riding with some mindless trick On my P's and Q's, I refuse to be broke as shit Sucka busta, fuck that bitch Ain't got no friends, they all turned snitch Trust no one, they bound to switch Trust no bitch, just give 'em dick Dirty South pimp with the gold on my wrist Empty the clip 'till the chamber go click No faking, no flodgin', my record legit I'm bankin' and dodgin' from Five-O, my clique Cut Throat cut dope with the all black blade Sniff coke, fuck hoes while I'm layin' in the shade I live up in hell and I sleep in a grave And if you can't tell, bitch, I'm fucking insane Pop, pop, pop, pop! Make the bodies go drop Bustin' these suckas and swervin' on cops Almighty 59, ain't got time for no opps
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