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Fuck outta here, nigga |
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No bet chill |
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See the girls back home like mulberry |
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Now they call me Hag and Daaz 'cause I got ice |
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I got cream in my car cherry, Remy Ma ready |
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And not to contradict my name |
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See I don't really like to play the bar heavy |
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I'ma pothead, so even if my eyes not red |
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I ain't got an enemy that's not dead |
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Oh, you a hothead, I'll leave your head hot |
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You know, I got lead when you see that red dot |
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And plus I'm dead nice, these bitches dead not |
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My chain Flinstone, bracelet bedrock |
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And when I'm not in Miami, it's hot like Miami |
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I got twin glocks call 'em cotton and candy |
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I got cousins that get it poppin' named Tequila and Brandy |
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I spent like 10 thousand just shoppin' for panties |
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Know these bitches can't stand me, catch me hoppin' out that Cadi |
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Shawty gased up 'cause I'm frontin' and I'm callin' him daddy |
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If he ain't a nigga then I'm like no bet chill |
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If he don't keep it hood, I'm like no bet chill |
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If he ain't actin' right, if he ain't packin' like 9 inches |
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Then I'm like, yeah right, no bet chill |
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If he ain't gettin' dough then I'm like no bet chill |
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He don't want me to smoke and like no bet chill |
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He tying stupid shit like I'm a groupie bitch |
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Then I'm gon' flip yeah right, no bet chill |
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Homie, I ain't impressed 'cause you dropped 450 on a New Jersey |
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I just dropped 450 on a crib in New jersey |
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But I'm from South Bronx, muthafucka, you heard me |
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I can tell you a bird 'cause you get up to early |
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You actin', askin' who's really that bitch |
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I know a fever when I see it you ain't really that sick |
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I spit full blown, you a mile cold |
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I'm 21 years young, y'all bitch wild old |
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Can tell you in your 40s like you pushin' 40 |
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Got like 4 kids and trynna be somebody's shawty, stop |
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You really need to lay off the cock |
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Y'all bitches Bacardi Breezers and I'm Remy on the rocks |
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Watch and I ain't talkin' 'bout a chain or a watch |
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I'm talkin' sum Joey crack shit, I'm 'bout to get a match |
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And you know the summer comin' I can use another drop |
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Got the ghetto barbie but I got a lil' pop, pop |
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If he ain't a nigga then I'm like no bet chill |
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If he don't keep it hood, I'm like no bet chill |
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If he ain't actin' right or if he ain't packin' like 9 inches |
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Then I'm like, yeah right, no bet chill |
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If he ain't gettin' dough then I'm like no bet chill |
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He don't want me to smoke and I'm like no bet chill |
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He tying stupid shit like I'm a groupie bitch |
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Then I'm gon' flip yeah right, no bet chill |
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See I know how to rhyme and I'm nice on the mic |
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And I know how to ride 'cause I'm nice on them bikes |
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And not for nothin', I'm the type to wife |
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See I can cook and clean but I like to fight |
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I had this shawty like to bite I called 'em Iron Mike |
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Changed it to Jack Frost 'cause he started buyin' ice |
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If I'm lyin', I'm flyin', never catch me cryin' |
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You'd think I was down with the clipse the way I be grindin' |
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See a lot of chics is sick but I'm the sickest one |
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I got 99 problems but a dick ain't one |
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I got 99 guns and I still ain't done |
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Until this day I wish that I could bring back Pun |
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Yeah, I know you can't take it, kid |
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See, it wears the pants in this relationship |
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But you gotta love me 'cause I'm so real |
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When bitches try to hate 'em, like no bet chill |
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If he ain't a nigga then I'm like no bet chill |
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If he don't keep it hood, I'm like no bet chill |
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If he ain't actin' right or if he ain't packin' like 9 inches |
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Then I'm like, yeah right, no bet chill |
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If he ain't gettin' dough then I'm like no bet chill |
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He don't want me to smoke and I'm like no bet chill |
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He tying stupid shit like I'm a groupie bitch |
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Then I'm gon' flip, yeah right, no bet chill |
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What do you mean do I love you? |
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Of course I love you , I love all of y'all |
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Yeah, Larsen, I got my chills let's be for real |
