Numbers

(album: Barter 6 - 2015)

Yeah
Thugger Thugger
Got my brodie London in this motherfucker, man
I'm telling ya this beat hard as... this song hard as fuck, listen, bro, uh
I go up, up, up and away
And I got old hundreds, they wrinkled like a Shar Pei
Plus I'm the realest nigga inside the A, yeah

And them boys in Atlanta, they don't play, yeah
And them boys from Atlanta tote them K's, yeah
And them boys from Atlanta got bananas for these monkeys, nigga
I got plenty ammo for your bumbling, nigga
Ammo for these pussy motherfuckers
Run up, I swear to God I want tears from your mother
Fuck nigga tripping, I'll get prison and fuck your father
I'ma tell 'em one time, ain't going farther
I'm doing numbers

I got bands in the bando and I'm beating David Banner
And I'm smoking on cabana, leaning, moving slow as grandma
Motor running, spent them commas, now it's thunder
Count a hundred, want a hundred more, that's hunger
Yeah, baby, Thugger Thugger hungry, yes, I'm hungry
Young Thugger got the munchies
All my diamonds come in yellow like a Funyun
Yeah, all my gold made 'em sick and they can vomit
Yeah, yeah, yeah... pussy nigga know they can vomit
I'm growing green, me and Chi-Chi, no pet
But I'm chasing dreams, free Meek Milly

And them boys in Atlanta, they don't play, yeah
And them boys from Atlanta tote them K's, yeah
And them boys from Atlanta got bananas for these monkeys, nigga
I got plenty ammo for your bumbling, nigga
Ammo for these pussy motherfuckers
Run up, I swear to God I want tears from your mother
Fuck nigga tripping, I'll get prison and fuck your father
I'ma tell 'em one time, ain't going farther
I'm doing numbers

I'ma tell 'em one time
I can read your mind
Pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, then start riding
Brand new 24's, bitch on climb
You's a buster, motherfucker rhymes
No sticky fingers, no porcupine
Hey, genius, I'll chase the day
Wait, let me pick up his remains
Hey, let them gators get their prey
Hold up, hold up, wait

And them boys in Atlanta, they don't play, yeah
And them boys from Atlanta tote them K's, yeah
And them boys from Atlanta got bananas for these monkeys, nigga
I got plenty ammo for your bumbling, nigga
Ammo for these pussy motherfuckers
Run up, I swear to God I want tears from your mother
Fuck nigga tripping, I'll get prison and fuck your father
I'ma tell 'em one time, ain't going farther
I'm doing numbers