G Shit Peezy (Ft. Doughboy Clay & Payroll Giovanni)

[Intro: Peezy]
(David Wesson)
Ayy, Clay, what's happenin', my nigga?
Let's run the numbers up

[Chorus: Doughboy Clay]
I'm a million-dollar nigga way I'm runnin' the streets
I'm paranoid, feel like the world got it out for me (Got it out for me)
Don't call my phone if it ain't ten thousand at least
I'ma hold this shit down for the homies locked and deceased
G shit (G shit)
Real street shit (Real street shit)
G shit (Ayy)
Real street shit (Ayy)

[Verse 1: Peezy]
Quarter-million-dollar nigga, fresh up out the slums (Fresh up out the slums)
Black Amiri jeans stuffed with 'bout three hundred huns (That's thirty)
In the project shootin' dice and I ain't got no gun (Real talk)
A nigga ain't gon' rob shit, I put that on my son (Niggas know)
Free my dog, he used to stand over shit for fun (Free shooter)
Just sent a thousand, hit my line soon as them bitches done (Soon as they done)
Been in the bar for five minutes, blew two thousand ones (Yup)
I don't wanna hear your opinion, you ain't got a fuckin' crumb (Shut your broke ass up)
Just pulled a paper tag up in front of Golden Sun
Hit the hazards, popped the trunk open, pulled out a half a hun' (Fifty racks)
Told Gary let's get to work 'cause I ain't got that long (I'm in a rush)
Fuck that flower set shit, I want my shit with stones (Chunks)
I'm sellin' records now, I came from sellin' stones (Yup)
Used to cook four and a half and get two extras on (Six)
Tryna make a hundred thousand out a vacant home (A hundred)
They just gave my nigga thirty-three, I pray he make it home (Yeah)