[Intro: Lil Blood & Peezy]
(Paper & Ink made this)
Old drunk-ass bitch
(Idea coming for the 808)
Ayy, Blood, you already know what's goin' on, nigga, Ghetto Boy, 3rd World shit, nigga
Uh, uh
This shit—
This shit real different, know what I'm talkin' 'bout?
Like, super astronomical, some shit like that
Very ignorant
You dig?
Phew, phew, phew
[Verse 1: Lil Blood]
Told the lil' bitch I'm a boss with workers
And every bitch I fuck with gotta serve her purpose
I ain't fuckin' on no bitch unless I'm checkin' her purses
On demon time and I'ma wrap a nigga head like a turban
Searchin' for every dollar when I break on a bitch
If she ain't trickin' talkin', Blood gon' have to shake on a bitch
See, I have little patience, Blood ain't 'bout to wait on a bitch
Hibachi dinner date and I'ma make her pay for the shit
I gave Amy a couple solids, walked away with a 'script
Hit for a brick, sold an eight, the other eight, I'ma sip
Told Shapey to grab a Fanta, Backwood, and some chips
Phone ringin', that's my baby mama trippin' and shit
Ayy, we be reckless with that fully, on some ignorant shit
He on some ignorant shit
Stay with a bitch for six months without givin' her rent
When you get drunk, bitch, you get sloppy and belligerent, bitch
[Chorus: 3rd World Momo]
Yeah, I stepped in the party on my ignorant shit (I'm on some ignorant shit)
If she ain't got no chicken for me, I get rid of that bitch (Then I get rid of that bitch)
I got in with my forty with a stick in that bitch (I got a stick in that bitch)
If she don't put it in my hand, then I ain't dickin' that bitch (No, I ain't dickin' that bitch)
Caught her comin' drunk on that belligerent shit (On that belligerent shit)
Twelve hundred on my shoes, couple bands on my fit (Couple racks on the fit, bitch)
No, I ain't fuckin' with no semis, got a Glock with a switch (Got a Glock with a switch, bitch)
I'm tryna beat the block up, no time to box with a bitch (Time to box with no bitch)
[Verse 2: Peezy]
Pick the top up, no, you can't box with a clip
Had to pull the top up, it done got hot in this bitch
I cut the AC on, ridin', bangin' Pac in this bitch
And ain't no life after death you plan on stoppin' this shit
I ride Ghosts 'cause I'm a ghost rider
I'm so fuckin' fly, I need a copilot
Thick bitch bouncin' up and down like she a lowrider
Wrist froze, but a nigga lit, I don't need no lighting
I just might retire, shit, I'm on fire
She just wanna fuck me and I won't fight her
Run up on the gang, leave you with a shit bag, here go your diaper
38 Amiris, pockets stuffed, can't get no tighter
Expensive-ass, ugly-ass shoes, I really don't like 'em
Ghetto Boy, 3rd World shit, don't ever test it
I got lawyers on retainer case I ever get arrested
Got my bitches on retainer, she gon' run soon as I text her
Rockin' three different Presis like I keep gettin' elected
[Chorus: 3rd World Momo]
Yeah, I stepped in the party on my ignorant shit (I'm on some ignorant shit)
If she ain't got no chicken for me, I get rid of that bitch (Then I get rid of that bitch)
I got in with my forty with a stick in that bitch (I got a stick in that bitch)
If she don't put it in my hand, then I ain't dickin' that bitch (No, I ain't dickin' that bitch)
Caught her comin' drunk on that belligerent shit (On that belligerent shit)
Twelve hundred on my shoes, couple bands on my fit (Couple racks on the fit, bitch)
No, I ain't fuckin' with no semis, got a Glock with a switch (Got a Glock with a switch, bitch)
I'm tryna beat the block up, no time to box with a bitch (Time to box with no bitch)
