2 Door lyrics

[Intro:]
D-Rock D-Rock

[Chorus: Tory Lanez]
I come through, drop-top foreign in that hood I'm from
These b*tches look I look at them I’m like look at me now
I’m back to balling like that n*gga that you know I was
They ask me questions 'bout that Honda that I used to roll
I took it back and bought a 2 door
My money thicker than a sumo
My spanish b*tches yellin' Dimelo
I took her back and bought some new hoes
I took it back and bought a two door

[Verse 1:]
I started out as a basic n*gga
Till I hooked up with some Haitian n*ggas
Whip that sh*t like quaker n*gga
Big 45 got a bake a n*gga
See I don’t give a f*ck if the f*ck n*gga’s dry
Take me right where the f*ck n*gga at
I put a slug in the f*ck n*gga hat
And knock that f*ck n*gga off of the map
I spin that sh*t cuz I got that voice
I was born in the hood I ain’t got no choice
Big body Benz with the deuces on it
Young n*ggas yeah but the loose is hommit
24-7 on the grind
The littlest thing on the block with the iron
I had to get rich in the back of my mind
And I was too broke to go back in the house
I had to get the packages out
As soon as the packages out
I drop me a grill in my mouth
Big jewelry hanging on my neck
All type of hoes hanging all in my chest
Cuz they heard this n*gga done got that check
Drop my top my sh*t all wet
Stacks on deck b*tch I stay fresh
I told y’all n*gga I got this
[Chorus]

[Verse 2:]
I wasn’t always rich
Coming from the hood there was always bricks
Starting from a A from the 4 way sprint
Then we got weighed at [?]
I was in the hallway with ski mask n*ggas kick that sh*t
That was at least but 44 whip
Hangin at the club with a 40 on the hip
[?]
I had took that back
Just so a n*gga could buy him a drop
Stolen these n*ggas and I push that pack
Now I’m riding the drive right through the hood
Where they cook that crack
N*gga you looked at me wrong
My n*gga hopped out and pushed it back
I want some two door sh*t
Thinkin’ about buying like two more whips
Penthouse cribs with two floors b*tch
With you and your friend and two more b*tch
Trying to get better my [?] said
Nothing but living my suped up with
Ain’t nothing better than a suped up b*tch
Than a n*gga leaned back [?]
[Chorus]

[Verse 3:]
Hit a few Os where the roof go
I been balling all alone
N*ggas like room talent at
Cuz a n*gga’s stash got too low
But, I’m back b*tch
Haiti’s baby
I was born on the exact date that crack hit
Grinding up to a hunned stacks for my lil n*ggas is past tense
Gents probably had two fights
They whole life but shooting fast quick
Two dykes in the room fighting
About who’s gonna get the last lick
Not to toot my own horn
But I got them doing a hundred in the [?]
And it’s worked for me really hand built
Got this b*tch smelling like a landfill
I’ve been stunting since little n*ggas
Since headbands and Grant Hills
Living life in the fast lane while these pus*y n*ggas at a standstill
And I ain’t even had a spitting game
I f*cked your whole some fan sh*t

[Chorus]