Here's a lil' story 'bout a gangster like me A eight figure nigga, fresh out the penitentiary A nigga like me, would like to say That I'm a crazy motherfucker from around the way Yeah, I got the fire on me, I keep the chopper close by That's just my

Say you won't go-oh-oh I got you all up in my head, all up in my head All up in my head, all up in my head Hey, now I've been running wild Hey love, you're still on my mind Hey, now I've been chasing dreams God knows if we can make it real Wonderin' how

Where did it all go? How fast things change, and now I'm here And all I wanna do Is go back to playing barbies in my room I wish that I could go back And I lock every single door And I look behind me even more They never say that you gotta grow up, quite

Yeah, Southside I go nuts on Southside Beats Super Bowl ring, we ballin' hard, we won the championship Everybody got somethin' to say when I ain't even ask 'em shit Bunny rabbit broke, take a brick and do a magic trick A hundred racks a show, get on the

You know that I'ma be the one that's there for you When you ain't got nobody, swear to God Won't you say what's on your mind, verbatim? You know that I'ma be the one that keeps it real with you When everybody's fake as fuck Hey, I'll say what's on my

Like it was burnin' way back With the same ol' flame that got away and never gave my heart back Aww, and that same ol' flame burns I'm still the same ol' boy in love Me and you and this town we been through it you could say that I guess some things never

All the colors, see the colors Feel the colors, she says Feel the colors See it in your eyes Do you feel the love? I’ve got all the love you need I don’t have the time to wait Got it all under control Now it only hurts to know

Cartier frames, call me four eyes Still can cook a deuce up with both eyes closed A lot of people still got a lot of shit to say about the clothes and the pics I post But it's a beautiful day outside today Don't know which car I'ma drive today Promoter

Let me hear you talking, I'm so far away Let me hear a single word that you say Are ya'll just mad at my dinero? All I gotta say You think you hot, lit, bitch I'm Habanero Can't get too close cause I'm real My temperature make you feel Keep it lit up and

My father told me, lying on his bed of death, "boy," he says, "woman she's gonna make it, don't fool your self 'cause she's got something to make a man lay that money, uh, right in her hand And the very thing that makes her rich will make you poor The