Stay Fly lyrics

by

Paul Wall


[Trae]
You see me on the block every T I roll off
The trunk raise up and everything else fall off
Slabs is automatic if the South get called off
The top raise up and the 4's will crawl out
And I use to be a broke n*gga stacked up
Now I gotta watch out for the roach n*ggas 24's close
f*ck timid and I blow n*gga, anything less than ten G's a joke
Come to the H I can show you who the king of the streets is
Trae, I can show you who king of the beats is
I can show you n*ggas what a hundred G's is
A.B.N. gang might leave a n*gga teethless
n*gga never heard now I'm all up in they face
Like a bad yellow b*tch I'll be all up in her waist
Hit her with the mule now I got her all up in a brace
So sick with the game that it should of been a case
And my chain hang low ice fed when I strut
20 G's plus still capping on sl*ts
J's laced up when I'm slipping on cuts
And I never been a hoe so they know I got nuts
Pass me the ball I'ma run it for the team
f*ck respect n*gga I'ma run it for the green
Cop the new whip candy black looking clean
Tilt the do's up hopping out Sean jeans
Loc's on my face two straps on my hip
Blood on my right to my left is a Crip
Plus I got sh*t that'll make a n*gga flip
If I get a attitude as*h*led finna trip
They f*cking with the dub but the hood got love
Riding for the truth till they put him in the mud
Any other way I'll be coming with a slug
H-Town motherf*cker I'll show you what it was
[Boss]
I'm a motherf*cking fool when I pull up on a switch
Game never lame when I pull up on a b*tch
Mouthpiece got 'em sick
Hard di*k and bubblegum is all that a chickenhead b*tch gon get
Can't f*ck with my ends if I get rich
Don't scratch up my Benz blue lens with Lorenz
n*ggas don't like when the end sit low
And I pop up on three with a mouth full of chips
I'm your girl's best friend
Call a n*gga with my name falling round town for knocking these hoes down
All up in my hoe see I beat my do's down
From state to state breaking the plate on 4's now
You see how the H ride bumper kit
Break a smoke on my 3's I'ma stomp a b*tch
Got hoopers on my side that'll jump a b*tch
Six foot Zip-Lock sack lunch a b*tch
If Boss don't bang right go on tell me b*tch
I'ma load up a clip right punching b*tch
I see n*ggas in the streets wanna act like they G's
Bang like I'm at home when I'm sailing the seven seas
True n*ggas in my zone but I'm trying to get rid of fleas
If you in 5200 don't f*ck with me please
I'ma stack up some cash and pain for real
When you see me banging a bad b*tch out of Brazil
Trying the product on a mill with a drank that sit still
Cut Khakis Chucks with my laces on still
Check out the tats b*tch check out the grill
2 double 0-6 b*tch check out the deal
I'ma make a b*tch made n*gga stretch out for real
Like a Sunkist n*ggas get peeled for the scrill
You n*ggas is hoes I'ma call you a tip drill
A.B.N. gang never less than a mill
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