Forgot My Bars

(Marc Boomin)

Niggas asking why my pants sagging
Probably 'cause of this Glock.23, I'm never lacking
Bitch keep calling, tryna ask what's our current status
Run into your crib like I need everything, rip up the whole mattress
The IRS gon' have to come and get me, I ain't paying taxes
Niggas working for a job everyday, checking in with master
He was already down, I shot him again, he checked out faster
Tell a label come with a hundred million, they can have my masters

Damn, I just forgot the next bar
What the fuck I just say?
I just-, no, no, no
What the fuck I just say?

None of my plays going through, it is just not my day
You don't look out for your niggas, that is just not okay
Nigga calling me his mans and we just met today
You shopping with the wrong niggas, you just got your ass laced
Your mans might be hating on the low, test him and see if he two-faced
Them Rolex be too cheap, fuck the red and blue face
I'm 'bout to get this shit sold, I want the green and [?]
I'm 'bout to hop out in the field, let me tie my shoelaces
Money coming in in bags, it's like a nigga printing paper
'Bout to make some fake IDs, I need some ink and printing paper
Choke slam a nigga on his back and beat his ass like [?]
How you want it? I'll square up with a nigga and chase him down with a laser

Alright, what the fuck was I 'bout to say again?
I keep forgetting my bars
Alright, yeah, alright
I got it, I got it

I'll make a nigga beatbox, SpotGottem
Oh, you need some weed, drank, and Percs? Pull up, the spot got it
This nigga said he wanna drive the weed back, just lobby it
Remember being twenty deep in the hood just mobbing
My lil' niggas be sliding everyday while they dodging
When I get my foot in the industry, I'ma dominate
I got some indoor bowls for 23, but they half shake
Shot a nigga in his right arm, now he half bake
I got on Supreme and Louis V, the one collab they made
Every time a nigga tell a story, he over exaggerate
It's crazy, a nigga will run off over a lil' pape
But you know I ain't tripping 'cause I still got a full plate
She asked for my number and I gave the bitch the full eight
Throw the Glock to my mans, he gon' pull that bitch like Clay
Think I need a money counter, I've been counting shit all day
I done made at least five to ten racks in each state, count that up

I keep fucking forgetting my bars
Punch me-, no, no, no, don't punch me in, man
Fuck this-, I'm leaving, I'm leaving, man
Fuck this
Alright, I'm 'bout to come out there