These faggots coming thru
Wit they guts and glory
Try that shit I leave you cut
Wit ya guts on the floor b
Pick em up
And put em in a duffle bag
Drop em off in the river
With sand weights attached
Drive back to the crib
Smoke a blunt and clean up
Gotta stay low
So ain't coming out for 3 months
Good fella style mobsta's
Lobsta and vodka
Surrounded by doll face shorty's
Who blow ganga
We got mad bitches
Plus our dough flowin in stacks
Leave you with more staples and pins
Than office max
Middle of the street swirvin
Tailed by a Suburban
At the dot shop
Buying dutches from the turbans
Why ya'll dislike us
Cus ya'll can diss like us
Ya ryhmes is sold old
That you might as well write dust
Going to foot action
Thinkin about boostin
Some A1's and
That New York Knicks Allen Houston
I had this bitch screaming
To the top of the ceiling
Gave her the twinky
But watch out for the cream fillin
I want me some pussy
Nice wet and gushy
But I don't want that shit over flowin
Like a slushi
I'm about to throw a hoe fest
Girls in a wet t shirt contest
Girls gone wild hosted by Kinect
Rockin a white t
With a Larry Bird throwback
Lower half got some blue jeans
And new Air max
Las Vegas strip
Strippers on the dick
Poppin champagne bottles
Like you hoe's can't get a sip
Listen here
I ain't going home alone ma
Drinking mad beers
Like I retired for Corona
I got me some sneakers
New JVC speakers
Hop out A1's
Gator skin mixed with cheetah
Subliminal signs
Make criminal minds
2 descent 5's
Equals a fine ass dime
I hate Philly styles
They always f*ck up my haircut
Coming out with lines of scabs
They call a shape up
I left you with blood stains
All on ya wall
I broke everything dog
Except for your fall
I kick hoes to the curb
Drive around blow herb
What can I say
Welcome to my life in the burbs
Ain't nothing really good
Wit these sloppy ass hoe's
They pussy smelling tasting
And looking like sloppy joe's
856 - Back & Forth Lyrics
856 - Back & Forth Lyrics
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These faggots coming thru
Wit they guts and glory
Try that shit I leave you cut
Wit ya guts on the floor b
Pick em up
And put em in a duffle bag
Drop em off in the river
With sand weights attached
Drive back to the crib
Smoke a blunt and clean up
Gotta stay low
So ain't coming out for 3 months
Good fella style mobsta's
Lobsta and vodka
Surrounded by doll face shorty's
Who blow ganga
We got mad bitches
Plus our dough flowin in stacks
Leave you with more staples and pins
Than office max
Middle of the street swirvin
Tailed by a Suburban
At the dot shop
Buying dutches from the turbans
Why ya'll dislike us
Cus ya'll can diss like us
Ya ryhmes is sold old
That you might as well write dust
Going to foot action
Thinkin about boostin
Some A1's and
That New York Knicks Allen Houston
I had this bitch screaming
To the top of the ceiling
Gave her the twinky
But watch out for the cream fillin
I want me some pussy
Nice wet and gushy
But I don't want that shit over flowin
Like a slushi
I'm about to throw a hoe fest
Girls in a wet t shirt contest
Girls gone wild hosted by Kinect
Rockin a white t
With a Larry Bird throwback
Lower half got some blue jeans
And new Air max
Las Vegas strip
Strippers on the dick
Poppin champagne bottles
Like you hoe's can't get a sip
Listen here
I ain't going home alone ma
Drinking mad beers
Like I retired for Corona
I got me some sneakers
New JVC speakers
Hop out A1's
Gator skin mixed with cheetah
Subliminal signs
Make criminal minds
2 descent 5's
Equals a fine ass dime
I hate Philly styles
They always f*ck up my haircut
Coming out with lines of scabs
They call a shape up
I left you with blood stains
All on ya wall
I broke everything dog
Except for your fall
I kick hoes to the curb
Drive around blow herb
What can I say
Welcome to my life in the burbs
Ain't nothing really good
Wit these sloppy ass hoe's
They pussy smelling tasting
And looking like sloppy joe's
Wit they guts and glory
Try that shit I leave you cut
Wit ya guts on the floor b
Pick em up
And put em in a duffle bag
Drop em off in the river
With sand weights attached
Drive back to the crib
Smoke a blunt and clean up
Gotta stay low
So ain't coming out for 3 months
Good fella style mobsta's
Lobsta and vodka
Surrounded by doll face shorty's
Who blow ganga
We got mad bitches
Plus our dough flowin in stacks
Leave you with more staples and pins
Than office max
Middle of the street swirvin
Tailed by a Suburban
At the dot shop
Buying dutches from the turbans
Why ya'll dislike us
Cus ya'll can diss like us
Ya ryhmes is sold old
That you might as well write dust
Going to foot action
Thinkin about boostin
Some A1's and
That New York Knicks Allen Houston
I had this bitch screaming
To the top of the ceiling
Gave her the twinky
But watch out for the cream fillin
I want me some pussy
Nice wet and gushy
But I don't want that shit over flowin
Like a slushi
I'm about to throw a hoe fest
Girls in a wet t shirt contest
Girls gone wild hosted by Kinect
Rockin a white t
With a Larry Bird throwback
Lower half got some blue jeans
And new Air max
Las Vegas strip
Strippers on the dick
Poppin champagne bottles
Like you hoe's can't get a sip
Listen here
I ain't going home alone ma
Drinking mad beers
Like I retired for Corona
I got me some sneakers
New JVC speakers
Hop out A1's
Gator skin mixed with cheetah
Subliminal signs
Make criminal minds
2 descent 5's
Equals a fine ass dime
I hate Philly styles
They always f*ck up my haircut
Coming out with lines of scabs
They call a shape up
I left you with blood stains
All on ya wall
I broke everything dog
Except for your fall
I kick hoes to the curb
Drive around blow herb
What can I say
Welcome to my life in the burbs
Ain't nothing really good
Wit these sloppy ass hoe's
They pussy smelling tasting
And looking like sloppy joe's
Writer: Greg Esposito, Jonathan Moore
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid