Big Homie Flocka - Waka Flocka Flame

The trap hot, it’s on fire

Either way a nigga 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 niggas' rhythm, my weed stronger

Fuck a backpack, that bodybuilder

Money talks, I don’t fuck with niggas

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 niggas

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 nigga 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 nigga

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 nigga tried to rob me got shot now he sue me for a half a mill

That’s real shit, Big Homie Flock

Squad!