Lud Foe – Big Tymerz lyrics

[Intro]
Kid Wond3r, you made this beat? Damn
Skrt
No Hooks Part 2 in this bitch, you know how I'm rockin', nigga
Get your guns up, get your funds up
You on that opp shit, get mop sticked, bitch
Skrt, skrt
Aye, aye, aye

[Verse]
Your bitch is a gunner
Ride foreigns in the summer
Pop pills, smoke weed
I'm the plug with the drugs, I got what you need
Big rims on trucks
Ran off on the plug, yeah, he out of luck
8 doors, shut the lights
I done dodged fast cars, yeah, I'm runnin' lights
High speed, Hellcat
Hell nah, hella nah, ain't no catchin' that
Fuck your bitch from the back
Hell nah, I don't want her, you can have her back
Forgiatos mounted up
Check a big bag of money, then I count it up
Homicides, zip 'em up
He ain't breathin', tell the coroners come and pick him up
Pull up, slide doors
Blue strips, open doors
Designer drugs, designer clothes
Designer hoes, designer poles
New whips, pigeon toe
New ice, rose gold
New price, show sold
Bankrolls don't fold
Rocks, blows, we sell those
So strong, make a junkie head explode
Water whippin', I broke the stove
Now I got dope residue all on my clothes
Red bottoms, Gucci shoes
We rock Louis too
You a killer, April Fools
Nigga, get this shit confused, you gon' make the news
Dealerships, foreign whips
Cash out, poker chips
Thick bitch, mean walk
Yellow tape, red tape and white chalk
These niggas all talk
Hit the mall fuck it off, forgot what I brought
These niggas throw salt
They just mad 'cause they broke, ain't my fault
Follow the trails, I'm drippin' sauce
Leg hangin' out the car 'cause my doors off
He off lean, he dozed off
He ain't see me comin' with that Mossberg sawed off
Poppin' pills, let me be great
Got a bad bitch and she on Section 8
Pappadeaux and steak
Tipped the waitress a hundred, told her bring my plate
Presidential, Obama
Nah, not the president, I'm talkin' marijuana
My eyes low off, I'm high off ganja
Dark shades, I can't see you, call me Stevie Wonder
In the strip club, throwin' ones
We just snuck in with all our guns
I'm standin' on the bar, showin' out
These Gucci shoes ain't comin' out
Donuts, burn outs
Nascar, fast car, watch the engine 'bout
See a lame, point him out
My homie tweakin' off the shit, he'll knock 'em out
Your time is runnin' out
We'll turn a nigga house to a haunted house
I get it by the large amout
I hit my plug for the drugs if I'm runnin' out