"Ways To Kill Em" lyrics
I tell a bitch quick, "I don't need you!"
Let welfare feed you
Why would I buy you a purse when I could buy me a Regal?
Hook the bitch up tough, interior done up
Park it next to my Oldsmo with the European fronts
I'm from New Orleans, I stunt in a blue moon once
Every now and again, but I don't be doing too much
That's how fool's get touched
Riding through all them cuts
Thinking you living cool? Dude, you looking like lunch
To the wild and the young, seem to be born with guns
You need to read the sign if you going where they from
Cough up a lung with my corrupt alumni
Get high and cry with friends now though we survive
And for that, I'll ride 22's
The front stays 8, the back about 11 inches wide
My mind on my money, my eyes on the prize
I'm forever on my hustle and on your bitch's mind
Smoking my weed and thinking of ways
To kill these niggas
Smoking my weed and thinking of ways
Of getting it done
Smoking my weed and thinking of ways
Of killing 'em, nigga
Seersucker pants and my HUF socks
With the leaf prints, Stan Smiths in my drop top
Bitches know that's him before he hopped out
Said she came with a nigga, but he can be swapped out
If I'm trying to rock now
Same cold flow I been havin' got me hot now
Disgruntled rappers dusting off they battle tablets
Taking potshots, I'm just rolling up my pot, takin' shots
Lemon-drop ten women swimmin' on the roof of my building
But I'm not jumpin' in with 'em
Because I'm dressed, I'm chillin'
This cashmere, not scuba gear
My homie Trademark copped this at the Ralph Lauren spring show in last year
I just got around to wearing this now
They say gold worth 1600 an ounce
So with no diamonds, my bracelet worth a townhouse
Hanging my watch out the window
Putting hoes on time-out
Let welfare feed you
Why would I buy you a purse when I could buy me a Regal?
Hook the bitch up tough, interior done up
Park it next to my Oldsmo with the European fronts
I'm from New Orleans, I stunt in a blue moon once
Every now and again, but I don't be doing too much
That's how fool's get touched
Riding through all them cuts
Thinking you living cool? Dude, you looking like lunch
To the wild and the young, seem to be born with guns
You need to read the sign if you going where they from
Cough up a lung with my corrupt alumni
Get high and cry with friends now though we survive
And for that, I'll ride 22's
The front stays 8, the back about 11 inches wide
My mind on my money, my eyes on the prize
I'm forever on my hustle and on your bitch's mind
Smoking my weed and thinking of ways
To kill these niggas
Smoking my weed and thinking of ways
Of getting it done
Smoking my weed and thinking of ways
Of killing 'em, nigga
Seersucker pants and my HUF socks
With the leaf prints, Stan Smiths in my drop top
Bitches know that's him before he hopped out
Said she came with a nigga, but he can be swapped out
If I'm trying to rock now
Same cold flow I been havin' got me hot now
Disgruntled rappers dusting off they battle tablets
Taking potshots, I'm just rolling up my pot, takin' shots
Lemon-drop ten women swimmin' on the roof of my building
But I'm not jumpin' in with 'em
Because I'm dressed, I'm chillin'
This cashmere, not scuba gear
My homie Trademark copped this at the Ralph Lauren spring show in last year
I just got around to wearing this now
They say gold worth 1600 an ounce
So with no diamonds, my bracelet worth a townhouse
Hanging my watch out the window
Putting hoes on time-out
