[Intro]
Ayy, Dr. Gunther (Yes?)
Dr. Gunther (Yes, what's the problem?)
Ayy, man, ayy, bro, chill out, bro, get the fuck off me
Ayy, bro, you gotta—
(Man, fuck you mean, "Chill out," man?)
Trust me, he ain't been drinkin', he ain't been eatin'
Bring him in, bring him in, bring him in
(Talkin' 'bout, man, I'm already chill, man, I'm all like—, shit)
(I'm all like—, my cup right here)
(Who got the munchos?)
[Chorus]
Ayy, cause its been a whole year since young nigga shot my pops (What?)
Been a whole year and I still don't know who done popped my pops
Ayy, but I ain't gon' tell nobody, 'cause that’s how I was taught (What?)
And the cops can't find nobody 'cause them boys too soft (What? You ain't lyin')
And you reap what you sow, but I play and I play in the plot (Yuh)
Whole lotta tape and a whole lotta chop (Yuh)
Couple new hundreds for a brand new Glock (Yuh)
What еlse? And I ain't gon' fold and I ain't gon' top (What else?)
And I probably won't find thеm folks, but I ain't gon' stop
[Verse 1]
Ayy, so please don't try to ask me why I might go insane (What else?)
Whole lotta shit done changed in my fucked up brain
Since my first love got fucked by a lame ass nigga (Uh)
No name ass nigga, 5.99 for some Hanes ass nigga, ayy
Big bro said don't trip, lil' buddy that shit build character (That's right)
Better get yo karats up (Them right) 'cause these hoes ain’t never gon' care enough (That's right)
And my mind won't register that a bitch don't want you to cherish her
She a cash money predator, so there ain't no point in sweatin' her
So what should I do?
I'ma get me a bi'h that look like you
Tell her come through and fuck out of spite
Just drop a Deuce of the juice in the sprite
What else?
I might act brand new if you tryna come through then leave for the night
You finna get left 'cause you can't get right
And you might get left 'cause these hoes gettin' pipe
What else? (Ayy)
'Cause I ain't finna stress, if it ain't 'bout money (All 'bout the mula)
I been chasin' these checks, tryna get my money (All 'bout the guap)
Ayy, and I know I get fresh but I still feel bummy
'Cause a nigga got a lot on his chest, so the shit ain't funny
Ayy, Dr. Gunther (Yes?)
Dr. Gunther (Yes, what's the problem?)
Ayy, man, ayy, bro, chill out, bro, get the fuck off me
Ayy, bro, you gotta—
(Man, fuck you mean, "Chill out," man?)
Trust me, he ain't been drinkin', he ain't been eatin'
Bring him in, bring him in, bring him in
(Talkin' 'bout, man, I'm already chill, man, I'm all like—, shit)
(I'm all like—, my cup right here)
(Who got the munchos?)
[Chorus]
Ayy, cause its been a whole year since young nigga shot my pops (What?)
Been a whole year and I still don't know who done popped my pops
Ayy, but I ain't gon' tell nobody, 'cause that’s how I was taught (What?)
And the cops can't find nobody 'cause them boys too soft (What? You ain't lyin')
And you reap what you sow, but I play and I play in the plot (Yuh)
Whole lotta tape and a whole lotta chop (Yuh)
Couple new hundreds for a brand new Glock (Yuh)
What еlse? And I ain't gon' fold and I ain't gon' top (What else?)
And I probably won't find thеm folks, but I ain't gon' stop
[Verse 1]
Ayy, so please don't try to ask me why I might go insane (What else?)
Whole lotta shit done changed in my fucked up brain
Since my first love got fucked by a lame ass nigga (Uh)
No name ass nigga, 5.99 for some Hanes ass nigga, ayy
Big bro said don't trip, lil' buddy that shit build character (That's right)
Better get yo karats up (Them right) 'cause these hoes ain’t never gon' care enough (That's right)
And my mind won't register that a bitch don't want you to cherish her
She a cash money predator, so there ain't no point in sweatin' her
So what should I do?
I'ma get me a bi'h that look like you
Tell her come through and fuck out of spite
Just drop a Deuce of the juice in the sprite
What else?
I might act brand new if you tryna come through then leave for the night
You finna get left 'cause you can't get right
And you might get left 'cause these hoes gettin' pipe
What else? (Ayy)
'Cause I ain't finna stress, if it ain't 'bout money (All 'bout the mula)
I been chasin' these checks, tryna get my money (All 'bout the guap)
Ayy, and I know I get fresh but I still feel bummy
'Cause a nigga got a lot on his chest, so the shit ain't funny
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