Waka Flocka Flame
Big Homie Flocka (2013 version)
The trap hot, it's on fire
Either way a n***a like a busy b play
I run my hood, no marathon
Took off for a minute now I'm back on
Them bass bigger, my trez longer
My n***as' rhythm, my weed stronger
Fuck a backpack, that bodybuilder
Money talks, I don't fuck with n***as
Ha ha ha ha
You been undressed, you ain't got swag
You a walkin rapper, you a signed artist
Got my own label, fuck these n***as
Play the middle finger on my diary
She in the gang banger so it's fuck a peezy
Wiped cream say I ain't talkin money
I keep 1 K, yo n***a transport to my old ways
Keep black doors on me like OJ
I'm turnt up off no drugs
You turnt that, you get no luck
Blow the energy so I'm in the cloud
Actin wild, they know I go hard
Bitch I'm good with ya'll
One phone call, send them killers at you
That's speed dial, house visit 10 years
At the same time Joey beat his murder trial
All the count, that's upon the soldiers
Still collecting opinions, I'm a humble n***a
Never join forces, make my own way
I keep date, no birthday
Fuck a off day competition
I eliminate from the street laws
Don't litigate, I delegate, you follow
I'm own my own shit you, you borrow
Last n***a tried to rob me got shot now he sue me for a half a mill
That's real shit, Big Homie Flock
Squad!