"40 Sum Reasons" lyrics
(J Money, you a beast)
Ayy, forty-some reasons
Ayy, forty-some reasons
Hit the block, left a fuck nigga bleedin'
That's what you get for doin' all of that talkin' (Southboy)
Now look at your partner, the nigga-
Hey
Ayy, I kick the door down
Run out of shots with the chop, flip the clip and I let off some more rounds (Grrt)
You gotta know, bitch, we deep like the Zoe Pound (Ayy)
Young nigga slide, made the big homie so proud
All on the 'net, but in person, make no sound (No)
Throw back a Perc' with no drank, hope it go down
Tried to push up on the block, sendin' shots through his car
Gotta know we make lil' niggas slow down (Grrt)
Just bought a Gucci umbrella, bitch, I'm a big stepper
You never know when it's gon' pour down
I got the gang, so let's have a showdown
Wheels on the bus how we go 'round and go 'round
Big 40 Boy ENT, put your ass on a tee if you thinkin' 'bout touchin' this bustdown
Sound like a door how I'm knockin' your ho down
Feelin' like Joc on the block, it can go down, ayy (Let's go, let's go)
Forty-some reasons (Grrt)
Hit the block, left a fuck nigga bleedin' (On gang)
That's what you get for doin' all of that talkin' (No cap)
Now look at your partner, the nigga not breathin' (Let's go, let's go)
Run that boy down with the chop, left him screamin' (Grrt)
Lil Monte on go, that's a demon (Shh)
Your homie died and you ain't tryna slide
Don't cop that boy shirt, go to church like a deacon, ayy (Facts)
Niggas be bitches
Niggas be gay, they hoes, ask me how I know
Chest shot, face shot, take off his nose
His name in the paperwork, nigga, he told
Come back to the block, boy, you bold, get hit with a pole (Gang)
Ball on the back of the stick and it's gold (Huh?)
Fft, hit that boy up, make him fold (Let's go)
Had to get that boy gone, this the life that he chose, hey (Ayy, ayy)
Streets ain't for everybody
Young as fuck when I first seen a dead body
In the wide-body 'Cat with a Drac' on me
In the front seat bumpin' that old Gotti (Let's go, let's go)
YG Woo in the cut with a twelve shotty (Grrt)
Zack and Cody, we turnt the hotel lobby (Gang)
Wonder how we ain't kicked out that bitch?
'Cause my young nigga turnt and he fuckin' the bellhopper, hey
We on some other shit
I ain't change with the money, it just made me confident
Police took one, then we got us another stick and another stick
Glock 22 with the army tint
Fifty-round drum hangin' off of the blick like an ornament
Bustin' the clip 'til it's over with (Grrt)
Niggas be talkin' to pillows, they be on some bogus shit (Ayy)
Big 40 Boys on some global shit (Ayy, ayy)
Ayy, niggas be pocket watchin'
Got the .38 Special, the pocket rocket
Play with sticks in this bitch like the mariachi
Got some demons on me, Jesus, get 'em off me
Nigga play, we gon' flash like the paparazzi (Facts)
Got a Glock that's too hot, it ain't been with Scotty
I'm livin' life like a trampoline
What you mean? Jump stupid, I catch a body (Yeah)
Ayy, pop out when it's necessary
Got a blick from an old-head, this bitch legendary
Move around if you bein' scary
'Cause I'm faded like Dirk and my young nigga Jason Terry (Let's go, let's go)
Shoot a movie like Tyler Perry
If a nigga get jammed, he gon' sing like Mariah Carey
I can't really fuck with niggas
You wanna know why? 'Cause trustin' 'em get you buried
Hardest shit that I ever wrote
Put a nigga in action and watch how a nigga choke
Hit the dope, make a nigga float
Pour a deuce of that drank and my body gon' lose control
Money buff, got a nigga swole
I was hustlin' backwards, that shit left a nigga broke
Now a nigga know how to hustle
I'll never, ever, ever do that no more, ayy
Forty-some reasons
Hit the block, left a fuck nigga bleedin'
That's what you get for-
Ayy, forty-some reasons
Ayy, forty-some reasons
Ayy, forty-some reasons
Hit the block, left a fuck nigga bleedin'
That's what you get for doin' all of that talkin' (Southboy)
Now look at your partner, the nigga-
Hey
Ayy, I kick the door down
Run out of shots with the chop, flip the clip and I let off some more rounds (Grrt)
You gotta know, bitch, we deep like the Zoe Pound (Ayy)
Young nigga slide, made the big homie so proud
All on the 'net, but in person, make no sound (No)
Throw back a Perc' with no drank, hope it go down
Tried to push up on the block, sendin' shots through his car
Gotta know we make lil' niggas slow down (Grrt)
Just bought a Gucci umbrella, bitch, I'm a big stepper
You never know when it's gon' pour down
I got the gang, so let's have a showdown
Wheels on the bus how we go 'round and go 'round
Big 40 Boy ENT, put your ass on a tee if you thinkin' 'bout touchin' this bustdown
Sound like a door how I'm knockin' your ho down
Feelin' like Joc on the block, it can go down, ayy (Let's go, let's go)
Forty-some reasons (Grrt)
Hit the block, left a fuck nigga bleedin' (On gang)
That's what you get for doin' all of that talkin' (No cap)
Now look at your partner, the nigga not breathin' (Let's go, let's go)
Run that boy down with the chop, left him screamin' (Grrt)
Lil Monte on go, that's a demon (Shh)
Your homie died and you ain't tryna slide
Don't cop that boy shirt, go to church like a deacon, ayy (Facts)
Niggas be bitches
Niggas be gay, they hoes, ask me how I know
Chest shot, face shot, take off his nose
His name in the paperwork, nigga, he told
Come back to the block, boy, you bold, get hit with a pole (Gang)
Ball on the back of the stick and it's gold (Huh?)
Fft, hit that boy up, make him fold (Let's go)
Had to get that boy gone, this the life that he chose, hey (Ayy, ayy)
Streets ain't for everybody
Young as fuck when I first seen a dead body
In the wide-body 'Cat with a Drac' on me
In the front seat bumpin' that old Gotti (Let's go, let's go)
YG Woo in the cut with a twelve shotty (Grrt)
Zack and Cody, we turnt the hotel lobby (Gang)
Wonder how we ain't kicked out that bitch?
'Cause my young nigga turnt and he fuckin' the bellhopper, hey
We on some other shit
I ain't change with the money, it just made me confident
Police took one, then we got us another stick and another stick
Glock 22 with the army tint
Fifty-round drum hangin' off of the blick like an ornament
Bustin' the clip 'til it's over with (Grrt)
Niggas be talkin' to pillows, they be on some bogus shit (Ayy)
Big 40 Boys on some global shit (Ayy, ayy)
Ayy, niggas be pocket watchin'
Got the .38 Special, the pocket rocket
Play with sticks in this bitch like the mariachi
Got some demons on me, Jesus, get 'em off me
Nigga play, we gon' flash like the paparazzi (Facts)
Got a Glock that's too hot, it ain't been with Scotty
I'm livin' life like a trampoline
What you mean? Jump stupid, I catch a body (Yeah)
Ayy, pop out when it's necessary
Got a blick from an old-head, this bitch legendary
Move around if you bein' scary
'Cause I'm faded like Dirk and my young nigga Jason Terry (Let's go, let's go)
Shoot a movie like Tyler Perry
If a nigga get jammed, he gon' sing like Mariah Carey
I can't really fuck with niggas
You wanna know why? 'Cause trustin' 'em get you buried
Hardest shit that I ever wrote
Put a nigga in action and watch how a nigga choke
Hit the dope, make a nigga float
Pour a deuce of that drank and my body gon' lose control
Money buff, got a nigga swole
I was hustlin' backwards, that shit left a nigga broke
Now a nigga know how to hustle
I'll never, ever, ever do that no more, ayy
Forty-some reasons
Hit the block, left a fuck nigga bleedin'
That's what you get for-
Ayy, forty-some reasons
