Oh, Cash Out
Whatever I Want
They give me whatever
He give me whatever I want
Your bitch, she give me whatever I want
My club, he give me whatever I want
When it comes to the mall, I'm gettin whatever I want
When it comes to clipse, we shooting whatever you want ooh
Fuck you pay me, it's on my hat
What's on my waist? you know it's the strap
Cop on my shirt, your bitch gon work
And I go bizerk, when I'm spittin on these verses
I'm killin shit these niggas better call a hurst quick,
I'm so sick, my wrist sick, I spit bricks
I pop shit, but I show shit when I pop shit yeah,
You pop shit just pop shit and I pop shit
And I swear my kicks cost a do wop
And I swear my wrist costs a half block
And I swear I'll put a whole brick on your head
And I swear I ain't never talkin to the Feds
Big blocks I swear, I cashed out I swear
So tight with this bread nigga, but these bullets I share
I got dubs under that V, I will Dre beats your broad
I got blood under my feet, I got plane seats in my car
I get a hundred bricks on my arm, I got a hundred stacks in my charm
Make it rain, sin city
I spend hundred bands on that storm
Now don't fuck around with that cold boy now
Young blood on that dough boy now
Came up off that dough boy block,
Straight up to that billboad spot