"W4RD" lyrics

Fuck, man
No fuckin' money, no fuckin' bitches to chill with
No mothafuckin' gas money
Shit
Holes in all my fuckin' shoes, nigga
Holes in all my socks
Man, what the fuck
Man, fuck it, fuck it

Rolled two cigarillos, had to get my trees up
Copped two more golds, had to get my steez up
Blow it in the wind breeze
80 dime bags boomin' like Alicia Keys
Wakin' up around 9, seen the nigga on the grind
Real wavy type shit
Real creative ass niggas with a foreign type bitch
Coke stains on her lips, from the 'caine that she licked
But an under down bitch
Terrorist Posse is the clique
Bitch Mob no triple 6, triple 7 comin' through
Hidin' in the fuckin' van we smokin' like a tea kettle
Hoppin' up off the space shuttle, ridin' in the hover whip
Ghoul ass white bitch, artsy ass black bitch
Psychedelic trap shit, shootin' camera shots
Black Kray got extended clips

Psychedelic trap shit, shootin' camera shots
Black Kray got extended clips, uh
Psychedelic trap shit, shootin' camera shots
Black Kray got extended clips
Psychedelic trap shit, shootin' camera shots
Black Kray got extended clips, uh

Had to slow it down one time for the bitch
Slow it down two times for the hoes with the wrist game
Sold through the back, switch lanes, ain't shit change
But the girl lick on my dick, mane
Skatin' around town, schemin' on these dumb hoes
Looking slick up in my clothes
[?]
Niggas used to call me Oreo
Jeans still tight, rockin' twin golds
Page 20 dollars for the camera
Shoes white as coke, bitch