"Fuck Wit Me" lyrics
(feat. JT)
Yo, it's the nigga with the nasty flow and the clean rag six-four
With the Ds spinning I can bag a ho
Top down so my rag can show, whatever in the dutch
Purple or orange haze it's just a bag of 'dro
Hit snatch with my khakis on, Aladdin Lounge
In Mark Jacobs denim and Don Magli's on
I'm a gangster and the birds they love it
20 with a baby face and sit on base like Kirby Puckett
You can't buy a Ferrari fuck it, cop lle' from J
The bricks come with Louis Vuitton luggage
He order rock and cover it, the dimes is free
The quarters is 75, the ball is live
Ain't nobody fumbling on my block
We in the field like Biggs or Marshall Faulk, we running the rock
Nothing less than a hundred a pop, anything less you a cop
Shoot you and take your vest and your Glock, motherfuckers
What you know about stacking Gs? You got to come fuck with me
Puffin on sticky green; you got to come fuck with me
My team is just oh so clean; you got to come fuck with me
What you know about stacking Gs? You gots to come fuck with me
I'm in the streets like the place is mine, told to cover my tracks
I push paper to increase my shine
I'm on my chief, jumping out the wagon like Tyco
And get the kind of paper that these niggas'll die for
Bossed out, camouflage under my vest B
Motorbike, fast cars, broads and Jetskis
Rule #1, keep your eye on your cash flow
'Cause rule #2 will get rid of your best so
None of 'em best show, riding in stress mode
'less they got petrol, pushing that Benz slow
Pick up the Game, let's count some cash
Then we, get to the door, then you put on your mask
On some other shit, riding with your boy now
We on the West coast, seek and destroy now
It's like when Cal-Berkeley whooped on that Georgetown
We had a riot in the streets fin' to blow now for sure now
What you know about stacking Gs? You got to come fuck with me
Puffin on sticky green; you got to come fuck with me
My team is just oh so clean; you got to come fuck with me
What you know about stacking Gs? You gots to come fuck with me
The underboss, ill too fast
Building my stocks off the blocks and the wears will sag
Not Gil but trying to top, the nerd Bill Gates
From the city of project buildings and them Mossberg Ks
San Francisco, West coast, Northern Bay, California
Man it's Get Low so best to toast, or torch'll spray on ya
Ugh, making mafia moves, skate from the cops
Yeah they tried stopping ya dude
But nah, the ball, it don't stop
A shot calling if I fall then my thoughts gon' flock
Yeah, underboss with Game and Doc Figgaro
Clear [?] and I'm the in-di-vi-dual
Holding weight, in the dope state
Toking the 8-8, oh, fold [?]
Watch our bread and our team skyrocket
Visualize I can rip beam on the cash and not 8 guys can't stop it
What you know about stacking Gs? You got to come fuck with me
Puffin on sticky green; you got to come fuck with me
My team is just oh so clean; you got to come fuck with me
What you know about stacking Gs? You gots to come fuck with me
With the Ds spinning I can bag a ho
Top down so my rag can show, whatever in the dutch
Purple or orange haze it's just a bag of 'dro
Hit snatch with my khakis on, Aladdin Lounge
In Mark Jacobs denim and Don Magli's on
I'm a gangster and the birds they love it
20 with a baby face and sit on base like Kirby Puckett
You can't buy a Ferrari fuck it, cop lle' from J
The bricks come with Louis Vuitton luggage
He order rock and cover it, the dimes is free
The quarters is 75, the ball is live
Ain't nobody fumbling on my block
We in the field like Biggs or Marshall Faulk, we running the rock
Nothing less than a hundred a pop, anything less you a cop
Shoot you and take your vest and your Glock, motherfuckers
What you know about stacking Gs? You got to come fuck with me
Puffin on sticky green; you got to come fuck with me
My team is just oh so clean; you got to come fuck with me
What you know about stacking Gs? You gots to come fuck with me
I'm in the streets like the place is mine, told to cover my tracks
I push paper to increase my shine
I'm on my chief, jumping out the wagon like Tyco
And get the kind of paper that these niggas'll die for
Bossed out, camouflage under my vest B
Motorbike, fast cars, broads and Jetskis
Rule #1, keep your eye on your cash flow
'Cause rule #2 will get rid of your best so
None of 'em best show, riding in stress mode
'less they got petrol, pushing that Benz slow
Pick up the Game, let's count some cash
Then we, get to the door, then you put on your mask
On some other shit, riding with your boy now
We on the West coast, seek and destroy now
It's like when Cal-Berkeley whooped on that Georgetown
We had a riot in the streets fin' to blow now for sure now
What you know about stacking Gs? You got to come fuck with me
Puffin on sticky green; you got to come fuck with me
My team is just oh so clean; you got to come fuck with me
What you know about stacking Gs? You gots to come fuck with me
The underboss, ill too fast
Building my stocks off the blocks and the wears will sag
Not Gil but trying to top, the nerd Bill Gates
From the city of project buildings and them Mossberg Ks
San Francisco, West coast, Northern Bay, California
Man it's Get Low so best to toast, or torch'll spray on ya
Ugh, making mafia moves, skate from the cops
Yeah they tried stopping ya dude
But nah, the ball, it don't stop
A shot calling if I fall then my thoughts gon' flock
Yeah, underboss with Game and Doc Figgaro
Clear [?] and I'm the in-di-vi-dual
Holding weight, in the dope state
Toking the 8-8, oh, fold [?]
Watch our bread and our team skyrocket
Visualize I can rip beam on the cash and not 8 guys can't stop it
What you know about stacking Gs? You got to come fuck with me
Puffin on sticky green; you got to come fuck with me
My team is just oh so clean; you got to come fuck with me
What you know about stacking Gs? You gots to come fuck with me
Writer(s): Jayceon Taylor, Joseph Tom
