and working fingers to cuticles. Patience tested under fluorescents inside a cubicle. It's a nine to five grind. It's a nine to five grind. Lower your
clocks and working fingers to cuticles. Patience tested under fluorescents inside a cubicle. It's a nine to five grind. It's a nine to five grind. Lower
bitch While you lame trippin' on that goofy stupid silly shit Who you ever seen it really did, super fly filthy rich, any with it killin' shit Came in that bitch with
with an old soul see I would breath heavy, flame would shoot out of my nose hole (haaa, haaa) so much shit, diapers love to play with matches and drink
peach Drip right off ya chin. And im bubbalicious good, make ya boyfriend grin. I, I, Im, Im so fly. Juicy like a peach. And im bubbalicious good, make ya boyfriend grin
cash you know, I won?t need Bruno I?ll hit you with my gat and then I won?t come back Like eym peanut butter top with the candy paint All the high school
Rubber bands in my pants, and a swift bankroll [Chorus - T-Pain] I'll tell you one thing don't play about mine I be banging on your front door with the
with bump n' grinding right I like mines tight, you like yours licked And we both like bitches to get high, high wit You opted to leave a nigga with
"My heart can rest, I've made the best No match to play, no greater love I'll know" Hid the 'lin, smashed his tools and grinned And died a happy old
it with sexual But don't think, I don't think of having sex with you I'm trying to get next to you, but you being rude In the club with ya guns out,
Wayne got gold plates with their names With the skyline on it, with the box link chain I'm wearing my frames, they match my gear with their tint And
know what your up to do girl I'm after my cheddar (50 cent) I gave you your style Gucci this Fendi that Burberry bag shoes and the hat to match I like
man with the plan Hell I'm the real deal, this shit ain't no game And you know what the deal is, impact from them gats and doms Get pealed instant attacks with
we trustin' each other (Sayin', "Um you fuck with my brother?) You gotta suffer the reprocutions we come from the gutter (White Kangol, white glass, six stripped suit with the matching
in question, I was restin' home with my chick Then the spot was blown, cops rushed in, shots were blown I jetted out the lab with socks and boxers on
floss In the wide body slab with the candy blue gloss I ain't worried bout them haters gon talk whachu talk I'm on the grind getting mine, nigga fuck whachu though Playa
hustler, nigga get out of line, I'll cut ya Me, I'm bout my paper it's fuck, ya If you, play games with mine, I can match it from behind With my nine
