Criminal - D. Jones

I’ve been sitting on all this weed, might as well smoke it all

I’ve been meeting lots of pretty bitches, might as well fuck 'em all

And I’ve been making lots of money, might as well spend it all

Who the fuck is all these new niggas?

They ain’t my friends at all

She bad, but she drive a buggie, I fucked and told her, «Go»

My ex bitch tryna get back together

«Hi», I fucked and told her, «No»

My name getting bigger, my price is going up

I don’t even know bitches that come through and ain’t tryna fuck

We did it, we done it, now who can we blame?

Now I’m just tryna get used to the fame

I had a b-day party for my lil' daughter

See two of my bitches, try not to get caught up, oh yeah

These hoes ain’t got morals

Tryna get wet after she fucked us on the tour bus

She think my real name is Dolla $ign

She got it tatted on her upper thigh

I’ve been sitting on all this weed, might as well smoke it all

I’ve been meeting lots of pretty bitches, might as well fuck 'em all

And I’ve been making lots of money, might as well spend it all

Who the fuck is all these new niggas?

They ain’t my friends at all

I just love the drank dipped in wax, girl, I ain’t a pimp, I’m a Mack

Love is blind, so I hit it from the back

Now she don’t know how to act

I’ll be fucking 'till day time with the blinds open

I’ll be diving in face first with my eyes open

What they hating on us for?

We take the weed wherever we go

And all we do is sex and drugs

She say: «When I hit it slow, it feel like making love»

She bought me some shoes, I got her earrings

First class, first time on an airplane

Your man ain’t ever did nothing like that for you

You love him, won’t leave him, but you ain’t loyal

You ain’t my friend at all

You the type of bitch that make a nigga spend it all

Yeah

I’ve been sitting on all this weed, might as well smoke it all

I’ve been meeting lots of pretty bitches, might as well fuck 'em all

And I’ve been making lots of money, might as well spend it all

Who the fuck is all these new niggas?

They ain’t my friends at all

West bro, this shit goes straight to voicemail

Must be on Airplane mode or somethin'

I was tryna holla at you, now I can

They went all up to the other yard

Esé's gon' towards the Woods

It was like 120 Mexicans, it was like 7 white boys

Like 20 on each one

A game, a game of soccer like

They was just stompin' and fuckin' them boys man

That shit was crazy

Plus police started shootin' and all that

Layed them all down

A bullet just jumped up out of no where

Got back crankin' again

Even when it over he got

They stayed down tho', that shit was just Loc’d out

Niggas could’ve died out there tho'

Get a nigga up outta here bro

Shit crazy

I hit you tho' when I can

I got some beefy ass songs

Prison Break 2, 20 songs

I love you tho'