A Billion lyrics

Point em out line em up
I Bet I give them the blues
Ye ain't got to be a psychic to predict that they lose
You just ain't got to be blind I'm sicker than swine flu
Ain't no sanitizing me let me remind you
Put my name in the rap and n*ggas'll find you
Chopped up in the pacific n*gga you shark food
I Got a short fuse, I'm winning this part 2
Smart mouth b*tches get treated they shoe size
I'm where amazing happens like one of them hoop guys
NBA demeanor on n*ggas double my senior
Ballin' is a hobby like a woman extra snobby
But they head be extra sloppy we twist big blunts of broccoli
Blow it in the air for n*ggas that ain't here
Close our eyes and Think about all of the memories we shared
Hand Guns they spray, like automatics
Make way for them young n*ggas
Or see their casket
White T's and Khakis still a trap attire
So much smoke in the air need a Humidifier
As we acquire what we desire of drug money
Treat a snitch just like a b*tch she get no love from me
Mug on me like the morning time what it do
Or what it brew, coffee colors still riding threw
We Dwell in the house with the marble floors
Elevators ? those
Bucky naked women snortin powder up they nose
? on my foes, Glock 40 feelin sporty
Throw the keys to your b*tch
Let her wheel it for me
n*ggas will kill for me but i'd rather be the shooter
Introduce a sucker n*gga to my lovely b*tch Ruger
Who the man? I AM
Turn a note to a grand
Turn the beat into a classic, let em quote what i'm sayin
f*ck women on satin sheets then it's back to the streets
Always strap with my heat in case we happen to meet
Oh yeah I'm hard body no roids, hard body no roids
Looking for a b*tch who likes to party with dope boys
pus*y of a Princess, head like a Queen
Seems to be the only thing, fit for a KING
No Prince boss sh*t, walk up on em won't miss
Show up at your service see your grave and take a p*ss
Say your grace it's sayonara
Need a ghostwriter boy? I got some sh*t you can borrow
Cut the check we the best like them n*ggas in Miami
Still Out here shooting pull the trigger like a hammy
Get ya money stay humble hold your ground never tumble
Stack a bundle for these n*ggas out here snitching on each other
Gone
Shabazz Holla At Me!

What I say...
Gun Shots, red rum, n*gga murder she wrote
Slit a pus*y n*gga throat cus he b*tch and he spoke
To a cracker about some sh*t that happened here in these streets
Keep your business to your self when you out handling beef
I'm shell shock I'm squeezing without thinking to ask
Let These hollow tips ??? they feet in your ass
Keep my hustle on repeat and never sleep for the cash
Foreign cars by the fleet, hey what you see on that dash?
Buy 2, 20, New money tell me what it feels like
??? tell em n*ggas get their deal right
Taxes it's a different bracket but the hustle's a must
Stuff them dime sacks up until they damn near bust
I'm thinking a square n*gga with emotions involved
Ask a b*tch I ever had I got no emotions at all
Just motions that have em open praising me like I'm God
But shiiiit i never love em cus I have no heart
Keep your pus*y i'd rather to take a dip in your mind
If I like what I find you get di*k in due time
You get di*k 2 times, a day if your late
Just a lil longer let me love you til the morning
Then you see the dough like you made a appointment
Still flow poison sleeker than some ointment
Kill all the bullsh*t, f*ck you with a pool stick
Bet This Big tool it make a hot boy cool it
Dope boy music, chevy yeah a boxed one
Aviator glasses like I'm Tom Cruise from Top Gun
Shot gun shot gun your b*tches ride shot gun
Say she like di*k boy and you ain't really got none
Pistol gotta pop some
Twice if they had those
Jack moves kick those, all for the love of dough
A Billion