If I Go Broke lyrics

by

Soulja Boy


[Intro: Fredo Santana]
Yeah, it's real n*ggas in my circle
We don't f*ck with them fake n*ggas
You know?

[Chorus: Fredo Santana]
All these n*ggas b*tches, just take a look and see it
Take a look at my wrist, that b*tch is on freeze
It's money over b*tches, a b*tch I don't need
'Cause I be trapping hard, hitting licks, smoking weed
Don't get my n*ggas started, they say we so retarded
See, these bricks I be coping, hit the block then I chop it
Can't leave my n*ggas starving, stuff the pounds in the garbage
Then throw it in my closet, I go broke then I'm robbin'

[Verse 1: Fredo Santana]
If I go broke, just know a n*gga robbin'
50k up in my Robins, b*tch, I don't need no wallet
Robbin' me? Stop it, I pull out and pop it
Then leave a n*gga slum and walk off like it's nothing
b*tch I'm a f*cking monster, b*tch I move like a mobster
Just call me Fredo Gotti, got a chopper and a party
Gotta leave a n*gga sloppy, so act tough if you wanna
Just to put you in the coma, it's all my next persona
I been going hard all goddamn week
I been rollin' off a molly, I ain't had no sleep
And my money where my mouth isn't, what you talk is cheap
Put this 30 where your mouth is, my pistol touch your teeth
[Chorus: Fredo Santana]
All these n*ggas b*tches, just take a look and see it
Take a look at my wrist, that b*tch is on freeze
It's money over b*tches, a b*tch I don't need
'Cause I be trapping hard, hitting licks, smoking weed
Don't get my n*ggas started, they say we so retarded
See, these bricks I be coping, hit the block then I chop it
Can't leave my n*ggas starving, stuff the pounds in the garbage
Then throw it in my closet, I go broke then I'm robbin'

[Verse 2: Trouble]
Trouble going broke, a rich pus*y's nightmare
Trill n*gga sh*t, I'm checking on no night air
Words to school none of the rounds I'ma violate
And motherf*ck the one time, I'm a cop hater
UBN, we hussle all over the globe
The drought season, my reason US smoke pole
They say DTE beat 'em up for a reason
Need no sh*t, send hits but you know sh*t
Trouble, Trouble, they know how I get down
From these pus*y ass rappers to the street clowns
Oh you got fitapese in that bag right there?
Brreh, brreh, brreh, hit his ass red dough

[Chorus: Fredo Santana]
All these n*ggas b*tches, just take a look and see it
Take a look at my wrist, that b*tch is on freeze
It's money over b*tches, a b*tch I don't need
'Cause I be trapping hard, hitting licks, smoking weed
Don't get my n*ggas started, they say we so retarded
See, these bricks I be coping, hit the block then I chop it
Can't leave my n*ggas starving, stuff the pounds in the garbage
Then throw it in my closet, I go broke then I'm robbin'
[Verse 3: Alley Boy]
They trust me in blood money, f*ck b*tches with Ballout
Pop pills with Tadoe, my young n*ggas gon' clear out
Don't take out we be shy, 50 hundred your life
These n*ggas jacking for foamposites, they murking for ice
Man all these industry n*ggas, they for the inner street n*ggas
Just GBE, DTE, shouts out to them BD n*ggas
And my Vice Lord n*ggas, and my GD n*ggas
And my moles and fouls, shouts out to dimtoe n*gga
All the way from my zone to the stone
Chi-raq like my second home
All them young n*ggas strapped with them 30 boppers
Quick shot to your dome
And I'm bout the don of 100
And with Trouble, that's 200
My n*gga Fredo Santana
When you mix all that, that's 300

[Chorus: Fredo Santana]
All these n*ggas b*tches, just take a look and see it
Take a look at my wrist, that b*tch is on freeze
It's money over b*tches, a b*tch I don't need
'Cause I be trapping hard, hitting licks, smoking weed
Don't get my n*ggas started, they say we so retarded
See, these bricks I be coping, hit the block then I chop it
Can't leave my n*ggas starving, stuff the pounds in the garbage
Then throw it in my closet, I go broke then I'm robbin'
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #
Copyright © 2012 - 2021 BeeLyrics.Net