(Verse 1: Greg Streettt)
I'm a bachelor
Lookin for a Madonna, with the Adams apple
Talk a lotta crazy ill shit so don't start about 'em
Pretty hard core
I was born an arranger
Get outta here, cuz motherfucker, you're in danger
Bodies in the woods, been found by rangers
In the day, at the park
I'll hang ya
Then date ya, fuck around and penetrate ya
I might rip ya
Wait, wait, kids is listening
I'm just bitching, kissing
Kissing ass for you and your ass man
Understand, I'm the black man
I go fast in these lanes
Switch em, hit them
Diss em, kiss em
Fuck em, why you love em?
Homie I can't stuck em, with knifes
Because they got no bezels on
I flame-throw they faces off
I caught a flame on, and understand what we on
I'm outta here, I really am
(Chorus: Jas The Producer)
Swats at the door, wit my shooters in the front
Got a bitch in the back
Cap a hoe wit a gat
My squad really creep
Never stoppin' in the street
Got the money on my mind, cuz my homies gotta eat
Whole body on the floor, search warrants at the door
We don't really fuck around with the badges at the door
Yeah, she wear a two-piece and she leakin' out the top
Talkin' shit about the mob, you get a meeting with the mop
(Verse 2: Jas The Producer)
Look at that back, uh
You a snitch
Goin' through the mud and now I'm swaggin' on a bitch
Solid gold chain, I keep a dagger wit my clique
Mobbin' through the hood, my hoe be foreign in this shit
I'm rollin' up a wood, I smoke a wood, like all of this, yeah
Runnin' through the bank, I got a dyke up in this bitch
She lookin' at my chain, I got my chain, its trilla shit, yeah
Purple in my cup, I'm sippin' drank up in this bitch, bitch
(Chorus: Jas The Producer)
Swats at the door, wit my shooters in the front
Got a bitch in the back
Cap a hoe wit a gat
My squad really creep
Never stoppin' in the street
Got the money on my mind, cuz my homies gotta eat
Whole body on the floor, search warrants at the door
We don't really fuck around with the badges at the door
Yeah, she wear a two-piece and she leakin' out the top
Talkin' shit about the mob, you get a meeting with the mop
(Outro: J.M.E.)
Round table, full of the knights
Drawed singes, claws of the night
Sold to ya, light as a day
Swear to ya, ignite everything
Round table, full of the knights
Drawed singes, claws of the night
Sold to ya, light as a day
Swear to ya, ignite everything
I'm a bachelor
Lookin for a Madonna, with the Adams apple
Talk a lotta crazy ill shit so don't start about 'em
Pretty hard core
I was born an arranger
Get outta here, cuz motherfucker, you're in danger
Bodies in the woods, been found by rangers
In the day, at the park
I'll hang ya
Then date ya, fuck around and penetrate ya
I might rip ya
Wait, wait, kids is listening
I'm just bitching, kissing
Kissing ass for you and your ass man
Understand, I'm the black man
I go fast in these lanes
Switch em, hit them
Diss em, kiss em
Fuck em, why you love em?
Homie I can't stuck em, with knifes
Because they got no bezels on
I flame-throw they faces off
I caught a flame on, and understand what we on
I'm outta here, I really am
(Chorus: Jas The Producer)
Swats at the door, wit my shooters in the front
Got a bitch in the back
Cap a hoe wit a gat
My squad really creep
Never stoppin' in the street
Got the money on my mind, cuz my homies gotta eat
Whole body on the floor, search warrants at the door
We don't really fuck around with the badges at the door
Yeah, she wear a two-piece and she leakin' out the top
Talkin' shit about the mob, you get a meeting with the mop
(Verse 2: Jas The Producer)
Look at that back, uh
You a snitch
Goin' through the mud and now I'm swaggin' on a bitch
Solid gold chain, I keep a dagger wit my clique
Mobbin' through the hood, my hoe be foreign in this shit
I'm rollin' up a wood, I smoke a wood, like all of this, yeah
Runnin' through the bank, I got a dyke up in this bitch
She lookin' at my chain, I got my chain, its trilla shit, yeah
Purple in my cup, I'm sippin' drank up in this bitch, bitch
(Chorus: Jas The Producer)
Swats at the door, wit my shooters in the front
Got a bitch in the back
Cap a hoe wit a gat
My squad really creep
Never stoppin' in the street
Got the money on my mind, cuz my homies gotta eat
Whole body on the floor, search warrants at the door
We don't really fuck around with the badges at the door
Yeah, she wear a two-piece and she leakin' out the top
Talkin' shit about the mob, you get a meeting with the mop
(Outro: J.M.E.)
Round table, full of the knights
Drawed singes, claws of the night
Sold to ya, light as a day
Swear to ya, ignite everything
Round table, full of the knights
Drawed singes, claws of the night
Sold to ya, light as a day
Swear to ya, ignite everything
( Jas The Producer )
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