17708 - Berner, The Jacka, Joe Blow

Yea, the JA

This that MOB shit nigga

Drought season aye

They say you only cry when you know you wrong

And every time you see me its like you need a loan

But you fall off every time I put you on

Guess you all lost tryna come up from my song

Fuck this rap shit, when it’s war nigga

Every time I see them suckas gotta pull the trigger

Said you paid me for that coke but I don’t remember

Guess I run through so much dope they think I’m gon' forget it

I never notice, but I’m always focused

So I’m smokin Jokers, let em know its real

Everybody know us and they scared as hell

Cause they never show up when I come around

Man I’mma po up, the President want me to dumb it down, but before I slow up

I’ll gun you down with this K I roll with

Seen every (???) but this one the coldest

I’m a hustlah, a black entrepreneur

Nigga its the MOB, throwin kush bricks on the floor

All night countin paper got my hands hurtin

Lean in my cup, drought season and I got the work in

Trappin hard, gettin money, thats my motto nigga

One phone call feel the wrath of a fuckin killa

1−7-7−0-8 you niggas gotta feel us

(???) the streets, a fuckin gorilla

Sumthin 09 with the roof in the trunk

A 2 seater with the ruger in front

Sippin promethazine rollin up kush in a blunt

I’m with the MOB I can have Bush touched if I want

In my 95 Air Max and Dolce Gabbanas

10 racks worth of ice fresh from (???)

Money to the ceiling what a wonderful feeling

On the couch smokin, countin on a quarter of a million

In the streets tryna fit a quarter ounce in a Sweet

I know niggas that’ll kill ya for a ounce of that lean

And won’t sleep till they touch a hundred thousand a week

Benz same color as a Long Island ice tea

Long nose .44 under the white tee

Scrapin' with a few young shooters that’s like me

My muscle in the streets think you packin that Type T (?)

Ridin with no L’s in the K, then duck, strike three

OG Kush and baby blue pills got me feelin like a mil

Plug it in and press seal

We don’t send em in the mail

I put em on the truck 50 at a time

I’ma shine till they lock me up

Cuz just got out, the word is he’s ready

And he’s right back in the burbs with the reggie

Set up shop, the only ones with the keisha

The purp’s a little cheaper, I dump em and I re-up

East cookin cream up while I’m countin this cash

On the floor there’s a mountain of cash

Downstairs, 20 light on my plants, just a couple of weeks

Til I have a hundred grand in my hands

The smell of money keeps my mind right

It’s been a long night

I got a long ride home but it’s all right

When I touchdown there’s more work there for me

I risk my life everyday, say a pray for me