"Staple Gun Madness" lyrics

Guess I'm going back
Guess I'm going back
Left some money on the table
Guess I'm going back
Plug telling me they really miss me in the trap
And I could triple up my money
Guess I'm going back

Guess I'm going back
Guess I'm going back
Left some money on the table
Guess I'm going back
Plug telling me they really miss me in the trap
And I could triple up my money
Guess I'm going back

Down a dark lonely road
That I know
And it's filled with rats
Word on the street, the super Chef is back
Little did I know I left a whole load of bread
Niggas tried to slice it, and now I'm on the head
I been gone from the streets too long
Cause I ain't hearing niggas singing my songs
I started living right
And left y'all dead wrong
What was I on, What was I on
It's a shame y'all been dealing with the frauds
Only real shit that I'm hearing
Coming from the real broads
And I could give a fuck
About a nigga and his car
When he steady getting smoked
Like a big Cuban cigar
Watch the liquor pour slow
Like the ice on your head
Steady sleeping on us
Got that lice in your bed
Running thru the lights
We ain't stopping when they Red
Living dreams in your head

Guess I'm going back
Guess I'm going back
Left some money on the table
Guess I'm going back
Plug telling me they really miss me in the trap
And I could triple up my money
Guess I'm going back

Guess I'm going back
Guess I'm going back
Left some money on the table
Guess I'm going back
Plug telling me they really miss me in the trap
And I could triple up my money
Guess I'm going back