"Invasion" lyrics
I know I got problems but I ain't nothing like these niggas so it ain't getting dollars
Ain't never switch up no fame, ain't sucking dick for no followers
I pop niggas and pop bottles, your big homie hit rock bottom
Ain't got Saks, because I got em
Bitch I'm lil robbed out Rob
Nigga been scoped get your squadron popping hot shit you not with
You ain't getting money we ain't got nothing in common
Nigga my bitch bored she ride
Nigga won't leave the chopper I got it
I got chopps, chopps on chopps
Fuck the score up
Fuck the cars
Take my yatch, I got more of
Grab that pot, cook that rock
Fuck that stove up
Work all out can't serve no more, pour up
Still by the dollar, all my partners on that same thing
I go to work, like in a job, and do the same thing
Copping 80 and its only 10, and I'm on 8 beans
10 out of 10 still know I sold that fake Lean
Just hit the block and make some racks off the same thing
Say my momma was hella [?] until I was 18
I couldn't switch up for money, ain't enough nigga
You still won't catch me around no weak bitch (Ain't no fuck nigga)
Solo-dolo I don't trust niggas
You let that nigga take your gun, then you a fuck nigga
You ain't talking bout no dollars I don't fuck withcha'
We stay on smoke that's on your momma I pull up
I got chopps, chopps on chopps
Fuck the score up
Fuck the cars
Take my yatch, I got more of
Grab that pot, cook that rock
Fuck that stove up
Work all out can't serve no more, pour up
'Fore you keep hating get your dough of
Got better shit to do then beef with niggas I don't know of
I could show you how to rob a pack, get a sack, and stove up
Been cookin' up the tracks, smell like this bitch boutta' blow up
I need money, I need weed, I need drank
Hit the ATM for 20 think a nigga broke the motherfucking bank
I be everywhere you sucka niggas ain't
Heard some niggas out to get me, I bless the lord, no I ain't [?]
Pop out with that '40, nigga that's a scare tactic
And if it wasn't my homie, then I don't care what happened
Still think about them hard times, sleeping on that air mattress
Still stump a bitch, she dead up in these new Air-Maxes
It don't take too much to see lil' bitch I'm back at it
You learn to cook the rocks from me then you know black magic
And yeah I dropped up out of school but I know mathematics
Stacking' rackin' with my booty bitches mad
I got chopps, chopps on chopps
Fuck the score up
Fuck the cars
Take my yatch, I got more of
Grab that pot, cook that rock
Fuck that stove up
Work all out can't serve no more, pour up
Ain't never switch up no fame, ain't sucking dick for no followers
I pop niggas and pop bottles, your big homie hit rock bottom
Ain't got Saks, because I got em
Bitch I'm lil robbed out Rob
Nigga been scoped get your squadron popping hot shit you not with
You ain't getting money we ain't got nothing in common
Nigga my bitch bored she ride
Nigga won't leave the chopper I got it
I got chopps, chopps on chopps
Fuck the score up
Fuck the cars
Take my yatch, I got more of
Grab that pot, cook that rock
Fuck that stove up
Work all out can't serve no more, pour up
Still by the dollar, all my partners on that same thing
I go to work, like in a job, and do the same thing
Copping 80 and its only 10, and I'm on 8 beans
10 out of 10 still know I sold that fake Lean
Just hit the block and make some racks off the same thing
Say my momma was hella [?] until I was 18
I couldn't switch up for money, ain't enough nigga
You still won't catch me around no weak bitch (Ain't no fuck nigga)
Solo-dolo I don't trust niggas
You let that nigga take your gun, then you a fuck nigga
You ain't talking bout no dollars I don't fuck withcha'
We stay on smoke that's on your momma I pull up
I got chopps, chopps on chopps
Fuck the score up
Fuck the cars
Take my yatch, I got more of
Grab that pot, cook that rock
Fuck that stove up
Work all out can't serve no more, pour up
'Fore you keep hating get your dough of
Got better shit to do then beef with niggas I don't know of
I could show you how to rob a pack, get a sack, and stove up
Been cookin' up the tracks, smell like this bitch boutta' blow up
I need money, I need weed, I need drank
Hit the ATM for 20 think a nigga broke the motherfucking bank
I be everywhere you sucka niggas ain't
Heard some niggas out to get me, I bless the lord, no I ain't [?]
Pop out with that '40, nigga that's a scare tactic
And if it wasn't my homie, then I don't care what happened
Still think about them hard times, sleeping on that air mattress
Still stump a bitch, she dead up in these new Air-Maxes
It don't take too much to see lil' bitch I'm back at it
You learn to cook the rocks from me then you know black magic
And yeah I dropped up out of school but I know mathematics
Stacking' rackin' with my booty bitches mad
I got chopps, chopps on chopps
Fuck the score up
Fuck the cars
Take my yatch, I got more of
Grab that pot, cook that rock
Fuck that stove up
Work all out can't serve no more, pour up
