Lyrics
Pick up to six lines to make a card.
Intro
Wavie Crockett
For the streets
I mean
West Coast wave for 'em
Let's go, let's pop on 'em
Chorus
I'm just tryna fuck with the ho, oh no, no, no
Better not fuck with my hustle
I'm a pimp, baby, I stay on the grind
Fuck these niggas and these bitches, keep money on my mind
I be tryna rake up the dough, dough, oh, oh, no (No)
Nigga fuck with my money, I'll cut you
Nigga better gimme every dime
'Cause, nigga, I got that money on my mind (Wavie Crockett, motherfucker)
Verse
Bless the day that you was born (God bless)
I love my family, I love my music more than I love waking up in the morning
When niggas stopping my cheese
Lukewarm niggas, I'm hotter than a sand beach when it's ninety degrees
Ain't no stopping my game
I average a triple-double, my Jimmy trouble, niggas can only hope to contain
I can come around a screen and throw it in your brain (In your brain)
How many niggas that got a better style
You thought I was good before, you say I'm better now
Waving the P-89 and the Gray Beretta round
Better duck when I pull it, I leave ya eardrum dripping
Heavy flipping, getting money and steady tip tipping
I'm the closest nigga to B.I
Plus I possesses the swag of six series C-I
Drunk in the club, Jimmy better come and get him, he high
Please, don't let that motherfucker drive
Chorus
I'm just tryna fuck with the ho, oh no, no, no (No)
Better not fuck with my hustle
I'm a pimp, baby, I stay on the grind
Fuck these niggas and these bitches, keep money on my mind
I be tryna rake up the dough, dough, oh, oh, no (No)
Nigga fuck with my money, I'll cut you
Nigga better gimme every dime
'Cause, nigga, I got that money on my mind
Outro
My word, my bread is all I got (Good, let's go)
Niggas want me dead 'cause it's on and they pop (Let's go)
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