letra de 4pf freestyle - goldenboy countup
[intro]
turn me up a lil’ bit in these speaker headphones
(reuel, stop playin’ with these n-ggas)
golden
son (countup)
yeah
got that sh-t on me, n-gga, uh, uh
big chicken sh-t, n-gga, you know what i’m sayin’?
got that sh-t on me, n-gga
you know what i’m sayin’? i made that sh-t for them real trap n-ggas, you know what i’m sayin’?
sh-t, workin’ n-ggas too, n-gga, we saved that sh-t up, sh-t on a n-gga, you know what i’m sayin’?
visitin’ them strip clubs and b-tches out there scammin’ and sh-t, you know what i’m sayin’? ayy
[verse]
uh, golden, you got four pockets full and never met baby?
standin’ over the stove, n-gga, workin’ on a foreign baby
calm down, n-gga, you just mad i hit your main lady
hundred p’s, two thousand apiece, you just made eighty
n-gga, i spend a thousand off today, i ain’t no cheap n-gga
you bettеr have your stick when you goin’ to meet them creep n-ggas
goldеn bougie than a b-tch, double c’s on my feet, n-gga
i get one scuff, now double g’s on my feet, n-gga (ayy, uh)
cappin’-ass n-gga on the ‘gram talkin’ big money
i’ll give that n-gga a hundred dollars, he ain’t seen money
molly santan, really bring you billie jean money
when you get the ball, you get mad, kareem money
golden, why these n-ggas talkin’ down on you to these hoes?
i told her tell that petty-ass n-gga to take out them goals
n-gga, you’ve been rappin’ thirty years makin’ two a show?
the streets know your net worth, n-gga, they really worth the pope
ayy, now who he talkin’ ’bout?
if them christian dior shoes fit, n-gga, you better walk it out
b-tch, i’m from the d, if we beef, we can’t talk it out
last tape the picture, matter fact, cuh, crop him out
how the f-ck that n-gga got his diamonds off of street money?
cuh, that’s a hundred racks in blues, i really peep money
plug told me save ten thousand, that’s some free money
i just left the doctor, got some b’s and some d’s money
golden had his fork in his bowl when he whip the glass
composition book, was writtin’ routes but i was sellin’ gas
sixteen, pulled up in a jag’ when i was goin’ to class
golden, you was sittin’ in the class but now i teach the class
i just spent a pound for my son new chain, n-gga
golden, he gon’ wrap his ass off, i don’t sane, n-gga
you can’t have a million dollars cash, you still a lame n-gga
i kinda was a kingpin before i got this fame, n-gga (ayy, hold up, uh)
that n-gga for real, though
i ain’t sprinklin’ sh-t on my sh-t, n-gga, this real dope
unc’ say he got a nosebleed, this that real coke
she faker than a b-tch, but she actin’ like a real ho
n-gga, golden
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