lirik lagu cashpaid elway - aaa
[verse]
they say i’m arrogant, i act very c-cky
all this chicken in my pants, call it teriyaki
that n-gga mad ‘cause his wife gave me sloppy toppy
all that tough sh-t gon’ get his head painted like tekashi
my b-tch think she bad so i call her rocky
my other b-tch think she gangster, i call her molly
get ‘em both in the bed, make ‘em both ride me
get to beatin’ on their body, i’m hardcore holly
i sell drugs, get you higher than whitney and bobby
fiends hit it once, got ‘em out here doin’ the ricky bobby
my city yellin’ detroit vs. everybody
i don’t f-ck with everybody
here’s to those that don’t applaud me
if it ain’t gang, i’m anti-social
bowls in the mail, fedex, i’m goin’ postal
call you in a minute when i get mobile
my [?] let me move it out the boost mobile
hit me on my metro, don’t call the t-mobile
i’m tryna make it out the hood, you wanna stay local
these cartier lenses, not no bifocals
beat a n-gga -ss for talking crazy out his vocals
but nowadays, n-ggas like to press charges
before i even use my hands, hit ‘em with the carbon
the softest n-gga in the crew the one who act hardest
message to your management: i’ma k!ll your artist
lookin’ for a plug like my phone died
you call n-ggas up for guns, i got my own eye
i’m one step from all ten, ‘cause i’m on nine
green lightin’ on his head, that mean it’s go time
you ain’t no super saiyan, boy you ain’t no gohan
i’m good in yo’ hood, you can cosign
these maison margiela’s not no cole haan’s
[?]
berry gordy even probably know
we don’t wait ’til halloween to turn a n-gga to a ghost
i don’t beef with rap n-ggas, i come to yo’ show
watch what you post, got em scared to promote
married to the game, sh-t we been got eloped
chillin’ with a bunch of crip n-ggas, them my locs
i’m cool with some blood n-ggas too, them my folks
i ain’t talkin’ ‘bout spades, n-ggas know i’m cutthroat
bag— got the bag like i’m carryin’ luggage
i get the weight off me quick like i’m jennifer hudson
b-tch you know i came to west like i’m kim k husband
i’m a african-american, my b-tch is a russian
walmart to walmart, send that now
cashier flirtin’ with my while she count that out
i got some hoes on my roster, wanna cuss me out
‘cause i bust on they face and wouldn’t give ‘em a towel
sh-t, got my reader-writer with me and it’s bluetooth
i’m tryna be a scam god guru
nah i ain’t safaree, but my b-tch look like juju
yo’ wife in my dm’s, she tryna offer up that coo-coo
my ex text my phone saying “do you”
i been did you, i wanna do yo’ homegirl, too
b-tch, i’m a real n-gga, b-tch, a [?]
i’m paid in full now like ace boogie and lulu
i’m wet as f-ck, waterboy, bobby boucher
i don’t drip sauce, i’m different, i drip kool-aid
my french b-tch said i ain’t sh-t, i told her “touché”
run up on me, knock yo’ wig off like a toupee
i drink henny, i ain’t f-ckin’ with no d’ussé
i drunk a fifth yesterday and today
bought two k’s and i ain’t talkin’ bout the hoop game
call me arrogant -ss artez, that’s my new name
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