"Call Me What You Want" lyrics

"Call Me What You Want"

(Honcho on that beat, word, say less)
Mm, Dee Mula

Call me what you want, bet you can't call me broke
Call me what you want, bet you can't call me poor
Before you call my phone about that bitch, you better call the ho
I look like I sell dope, I look like I sell cars, all these foreigns in my yard
She look like a model, pussy fat, must got her pad on
She know she a bad bitch, can't fuck with her, leave her alone
If you ain't gettin' no money, you can't get no pussycat
Hit the gas, get her pussy wet like how I push the 'Cat
Why you talkin' out your top like Dee Mula won't push it back?
Reachin' for my chain, that's suicide, slam, wrestlin' match
Linkin' with the opps, that's cool, don't give a damn, pass it back
We turn niggas to some dope, look at they post and laugh at that
Want a rich nigga, real risk taker, that's me, baby
I be in them streets, baby, fat boy gotta eat, baby
Put it down, scratch her coochie out
All these bitches walkin' around like I'm at Lil Boosie house
And I can't help it that I'm bossed up
Got these niggas sick, I'm in they chest, I'm what they cough up
Five percent the tent, look like the narcs, I'm in this black truck
Movin' like the president, fresher than a peppermint, he clean like no evidence
Ayy, call me what you want, bet you can't call me broke
Call me what you want, bet you can't call me poor
In my hood, they spot, robbin' and shit, they must know Curtis Snow
Ran into an opp, he ain't do shit, I guess he let it go
He be with my old friends, them niggas probably let him know
Them niggas ain't opps, they really fans, probably at my show
Probably wanna kill Mula 'cause I done probably fucked they ho
Prada on me head to toe, four pockets full, ain't come to play
Fuck her good, I beat her doonies down, make sure she come to stay
Them niggas ain't havin' motion, them niggas share bankrolls
Them niggas ain't used to shit, they fallin' out 'bout stank hoes
Cut my nigga off just for some pussy, that's a never (No)
Ho told me I'm a dog, kicked her out, bitch, I'm the devil
I kill shit, I knew they was comin', I wasn't there, I feel shit
How you got a boyfriend, turn around and let me still hit?
I'm that nigga, in my hood, I'm the biggest if I don't get no bigger
Woulda kept that nigga 'round if he ain't paint that picture
Last nigga tried to take somethin' took shots, no liquor
Last time we hit they block, them niggas dropped they pistol
If he ain't go with you to slide, then that is not your nigga
He is not no gangster
Last time they dropped the lo', I pulled up on them blankin'
Make it count, we up the score, that's why they block so stankin'
That's why they clique been shrinkin'
And I know every nigga 'round me shootin' they gun so anxious
We in these cars runnin' red lights
Slap that bitch in sport, we see the fed lights
Might keep her around if her head right
In my hood, you see nothin' but med lights
Yellow tape and cones on the ground, that mean he dead, right? (Ah-ha)

(Honcho on that beat, word, say less)


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