[Intro: TLG Deuce]
Couple ways, we'll get this shit shakin' a couple ways
Cook crack, a couple niggas got 'em busy with strap
It's a couple hoes want my dick, a couple niggas is fags
They out here worried 'bout the next nigga bag, bitch
[Verse 1: TLG Deuce]
I got some dead friends that'll get your head blown
Watch the hollows go through ear-to-ear just like some headphones
Got introduced to H, I heard that I could stand on it
Should snap a helipad, the way I'm finna land on it
I took a step back from rap to get my bands long
Needed to get in position to get them grams gone
I could sell anything I put my hands on
Ran through a hundred zips on that Obama-brand phone
My counter brokе on my bitch, I'm like, "Why me?"
She said I need to makе up a plan, I'm like, "Try B"
Usin' code words sellin' oranges, I got Hi-C
With a white bitch snortin' three lines, her name Y-3
Grew up in the era of the hustle, not the user
When niggas sold keys, not the ones on the computer
Expensive rip cruiser, you be ridin' 'round in Ubers
I was always poppin', bitch, you hung around with losers
[Chorus: Steven B the Great]
Who be chasin' all that chicken that won't make it out?
Who be servin' all them fiends in the vacant house?
We'll take them birds, take 'em to the South
Gettin' money out a vacant house
Who be chasin' all that chicken that won't make it out?
Who be servin' all them fiends in the vacant house?
We'll take them birds, take 'em to the South
Gettin' all this money out a vacant house
Couple ways, we'll get this shit shakin' a couple ways
Cook crack, a couple niggas got 'em busy with strap
It's a couple hoes want my dick, a couple niggas is fags
They out here worried 'bout the next nigga bag, bitch
[Verse 1: TLG Deuce]
I got some dead friends that'll get your head blown
Watch the hollows go through ear-to-ear just like some headphones
Got introduced to H, I heard that I could stand on it
Should snap a helipad, the way I'm finna land on it
I took a step back from rap to get my bands long
Needed to get in position to get them grams gone
I could sell anything I put my hands on
Ran through a hundred zips on that Obama-brand phone
My counter brokе on my bitch, I'm like, "Why me?"
She said I need to makе up a plan, I'm like, "Try B"
Usin' code words sellin' oranges, I got Hi-C
With a white bitch snortin' three lines, her name Y-3
Grew up in the era of the hustle, not the user
When niggas sold keys, not the ones on the computer
Expensive rip cruiser, you be ridin' 'round in Ubers
I was always poppin', bitch, you hung around with losers
[Chorus: Steven B the Great]
Who be chasin' all that chicken that won't make it out?
Who be servin' all them fiends in the vacant house?
We'll take them birds, take 'em to the South
Gettin' money out a vacant house
Who be chasin' all that chicken that won't make it out?
Who be servin' all them fiends in the vacant house?
We'll take them birds, take 'em to the South
Gettin' all this money out a vacant house
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