Lyrics

Momma said you better leave them boys alone
Uncle said you better not leave home without the chrome
OG said be careful you know it's feds on the phone
Got your homies piecing up on your headstone
Piecing up on your headstone
Got your homies piecing up on your headstone
Piecing up on your headstone
Now your homies piecing up on your headstone
Not sure u wanna be
But all he see is G
Posted on the boulevard
hood stars in luxury cars and that shi look hard
Like how can I get down down
Betta learn to swim in the streets or u goin down clown
Scream in the mic all u want we still don't believe you
Too many holes in ya see stories ya whole ya body see thru
Run wit young gunz Regulators mount up
We build this shit from the underground up
Elevators keep them haters over there
Spectators them suckas chose the stairs
Fake Players get gas Puff puff no look pass
Alley hoop off the glass nuts on ya mustache
Might shoot the tray splash like how u really feel
A I got they brain fried they can't tell what's really real
Chosen few cuz he knew I could deal with it
24/7 in the field wit it
Touchdown in my throwback on my first goal today
Opps Tryin to snatch a sack
Almost had to use the throwaway
Momma said you better leave them boys alone
Uncle said you better not leave home without the chrome
OG said be careful you know it's feds on the phone
Got your homies piecing up on your headstone
Piecing up on your headstone
Got your homies piecing up on your headstone
Piecing up on your headstone
Now your homies piecing up on your headstone
Almost had to use my throwaway
Almost almost had to your my throwaway
Momma said you better leave them boys alone
Uncle said you better not leave home without the chrome
OG said be careful you know it's feds on the phone
Got your homies piecing up on your headstone
Piecing up on your headstone
Got your homies piecing up on your headstone
Piecing up on your headstone
Now your homies piecing up on your headstone
Almost had to use my throwaway