Découvrez l’histoire, les thèmes et l’émotion de cette chanson.
Mustard on the beat hoe | I'm that nigga with the plugs | I'm the nigga who got homies that be sellin' drugs
Mustard on the beat hoe I'm that nigga with the plugs I'm the nigga who got homies that be sellin' drugs I'm that nigga on the back street With the fat heat, niggas better run like athletes I'm that nigga, I'm that nigga My Bank of America account got six figures I'm that nigga on the block Police pull up, I'm tryna stash the Glock You that nigga on the low-low You the nigga You're the one that be talkin' to the popos Porsche sittin' on Forgis Niggas can't afford these The Panamera shittin' on the 9-11 I call my homies, not 911 I'm that nigga with the juice But I'll never do my nigga like Pac did Q Bitch, who do you love? Bitch, who do you love? Bitch, who do you love? Bitch, who do you love? Bitch, who do you love? I got a shorty name Texas Syn She got a buddy named Young JB and now you know the deal We turnt up in the studio, late night That's why the songs that you hear are comin' real tight OVO crew, nigga, thought I told you If you a player in the game, this should hold you And man shout my nigga Game he just rolled through Eatin' crab out in Malibu at Nobu A lot of fools puttin' salt in the game Until these women get the notion that they runnin' the game They got money that they jumpin' on the pole to make Did the motto, took a flight to the golden state I'm the general, just makin' sure my soldiers straight Had to leave my nigga, homie got an open case But I'm big on the west like I'm big in the south So we gon' pay some people off, we gon' figure it out And my name too big and my gang too big Young Money shit, me and Lil Wayne too big I'ma crush that ass even if it ain't too big I would pinky swear but my pinky ring too big Bitch, who do you love? Bitch, who do you love? Bitch, who do you love? Bitch, who do you love? Bitch, who do you love? I'm that nigga, I'm that nigga Bank of America account got six figures I'm that nigga on the block Fat heat, run like athletes I'm that nigga, I'm that nigga Bank of America account got six figures I'm that nigga on the block Who do you love? Bitch, who do you love? Bitch, who do you love? Bitch, who do you love? Bitch, who do you love? Nigga we street and we hood Ain't nobody ever gave us shit When you see us shinin' It's because we steady grindin' We stay paper chasin' Separatin' the real from the fake The fake from the real We livin' to die and dyin' to live Nigga, that's why we got so many women I'm tryna go deep, hit them asscheeks Bust them guts, make her cum Bitch, you know the game Ain't a motherfuckin' thing change Bitch, who do you love? Alright, hold up I done lost too many hommies in these past couple of years This shit brazy Rest in peace, my nigga CJ Mack Rest in peace, my nigga Cedar Block Frog though Rest in peace, my nigga Tiny M And last but not least, rest in peace, my nigga Big Aaron
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