Cash Stacka's - 50/50 Twin

Yeah, 50/50 huh Mob Boss of the Nawf

I had to go to the South know I’m saying, reach out

Pick up O.G.

Keke, he holla’d back know I’m saying

We gon tip down, you know I’m saying

Dig these blues, ounce for ounce hey

I’m the funky fresh cash stacker, foreign car ass actor

Ben Frank bill packer, heater toting hater whacker

Goodfellas movie watcher, apple seal trunk popper

Crack a smile real proper, diamonds sit inside colossal

Bad yella hammer puller, ain’t no telling how I do her

She a freak I’ma treat her like one, call my niggas let them run through her

Mob boss 50 fe', Southside Don O.G.

Keke

Steal his rhymes go sell em at school, all them hoes would cheer for me

Then I decided to write my own, ever since then crawl some’ing on chrome

36 zone when I would get gone, drop them grams cut the microwave on

Lock up slow hell naw, true yola gon come back fast

Your shit ain’t mirror folds, if Mr. Davis didn’t give you the glass

Fuck fame money matter, squash the chatter I’m acting badder

Donadale blueberry dro, got 50 Twin higher than a ladder

Better yet giraffe pussy, I don’t hang out with no wussy

When it comes to the blow I move it slow, like salt and pepper I push it

I pull out drop top, sunny day rolling hard

I’m in the candy coated coupe, with a yellow broad

Southside Young Don, I’m a ghost writer

I’m in the trap getting paid, like and all-nighter

I’m in the school zone, tipping slow riding glass

Let up the trunk drop the bumper, and hit the gas

I’m known for showing out, acting bad hitting blocks

I’m on them rims flipping backwards, they won’t stop

H-Town on the map, do you hear a G

It’s 50/50 and Young Don, is you feeling me

I chase bread, on the highway and interstate

I’m trying to sell about a million, that’s plenty weight

Down in Texas, we swang on them elbows

And keep them shoppers and them boppers, on they tip-toes

I’m getting paid off these shows, and spitting flows

And when I’m on the Boulevard, I be tipping 4's