Str8 Slammin’ Freddie Gibbs (Ft. Juicy J)
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "Str8 Slammin’" by Freddie Gibbs (Ft. Juicy J). Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
[Intro: Freddie Gibbs]
Yeah
A nigga out here clocking cash (Yeah)
Can you picture a nigga out here clocking cash? (Picture me rolling, rolling, rolling)
Can you picture a nigga out here clocking cash? (Picture me rolling, rolling, rolling)
Can you picture a nigga?
Yeah
[Chorus: Freddie Gibbs]
Can you picture a nigga out here clocking cash in?
Pulling stick ups, I guess I had to Glock and mask it
Nine zippers, let's bust that open, cut and bag it
Water whipper, I'm in the kitchen Str8 Slammin'
Thug niggas and drug dealers, that's all I hang with
Puffing Swishers and fucking hoes, we on the same shit
In the kitchen, gon' whip my way up to a mansion
Eight figures, that's what I call Str8 Slammin'
[Verse 1: Freddie Gibbs]
Nah
G.I. thugging (Yeah), can you picture this Midwest nigga rollin'?
Hardrock hustling (Yeah), bitch stick to the dick 'cause you know a nigga holding
Living on some pimp shit, I'ma let y'all chase hoes, I'ma get chosen
Keep a bitch dick whipped, got a whole lot of broads that'll bust that open
Fresh up off a straight dope stain, I know my clothes still smell like cocaine
The real niggas understand, I ain't trying to be the man, if you put it in my hands, it'll go, man
I keep a whole thing or better pushed to the side
Got like thirty-two bales of Bubba Kush in the ride (Yeah)
If you wanna get high, all drugs I provide
Getting my thug on where I reside
Nigga been bust at, still I survive (Yeah)
Pushed packs and I lived to tell it in my raps (Uh)
Lost a couple homies, I could never get 'em back (Yeah)
Life got me stressed, so I'm twisting up a sack
I'm street certified, nigga, check my stats
Back up to the wall 'cause I'm coming up to bat
And these little niggas said they got racks on racks
So the stick up man had to put the tax on the tax, God damn
Yeah
A nigga out here clocking cash (Yeah)
Can you picture a nigga out here clocking cash? (Picture me rolling, rolling, rolling)
Can you picture a nigga out here clocking cash? (Picture me rolling, rolling, rolling)
Can you picture a nigga?
Yeah
[Chorus: Freddie Gibbs]
Can you picture a nigga out here clocking cash in?
Pulling stick ups, I guess I had to Glock and mask it
Nine zippers, let's bust that open, cut and bag it
Water whipper, I'm in the kitchen Str8 Slammin'
Thug niggas and drug dealers, that's all I hang with
Puffing Swishers and fucking hoes, we on the same shit
In the kitchen, gon' whip my way up to a mansion
Eight figures, that's what I call Str8 Slammin'
[Verse 1: Freddie Gibbs]
Nah
G.I. thugging (Yeah), can you picture this Midwest nigga rollin'?
Hardrock hustling (Yeah), bitch stick to the dick 'cause you know a nigga holding
Living on some pimp shit, I'ma let y'all chase hoes, I'ma get chosen
Keep a bitch dick whipped, got a whole lot of broads that'll bust that open
Fresh up off a straight dope stain, I know my clothes still smell like cocaine
The real niggas understand, I ain't trying to be the man, if you put it in my hands, it'll go, man
I keep a whole thing or better pushed to the side
Got like thirty-two bales of Bubba Kush in the ride (Yeah)
If you wanna get high, all drugs I provide
Getting my thug on where I reside
Nigga been bust at, still I survive (Yeah)
Pushed packs and I lived to tell it in my raps (Uh)
Lost a couple homies, I could never get 'em back (Yeah)
Life got me stressed, so I'm twisting up a sack
I'm street certified, nigga, check my stats
Back up to the wall 'cause I'm coming up to bat
And these little niggas said they got racks on racks
So the stick up man had to put the tax on the tax, God damn
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