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Xviii (Intro) Video (MV)




Performed By: $aucy Reggie
Language: English
Length: 2:53
Written by: Reggie Williams




$aucy Reggie - Xviii (Intro) Lyrics




I'm bout my bread, I'm bout my peso
Shawty she do what I say so
Don't hit my line, ween talking no cheese lil boy cuz I'm all bout my queso

Do what I do, and it's case closed
All foreign, might cop me a range rove
Pull up and show out that's just what I do, if you din know me, learn the name tho

Know that I'm next up
Boy I stay flex up
Paven produced it... now you dancing Like Tyler, no step up

Nigga won't stress us
Get em gon stretcher
I stunt on a old hoes, now I'm flexed up just like a wrestler

Aye aye lil shawty why you walk like that, lil shawty why talk like that that
Riding 5 deep know we packed in a coupe f*ck around just might catch a flat

Lil shawty why you walk like that
Lil shawty why talk like that that
Riding 5 deep know we packed in a coupe f*ck around just might catch a flat

I'm bout my bread that's all
Ballin like paul gasol
I'm on mission, get money flippin, they stacked like shaq, that's tall

Niggas all cap, they talk
No we not done we raw
Lil Buddy was playin, that stick got sprayin now bodies outlined in chalk

Got 12 they drawing wit chalk... this ain't no play ground
Got niggas who ready to spark, hoe betta lay down
Got 12 they drawing wit chalk... this ain't no play ground
Got niggas who ready to spark, hoe betta lay down

I took yo main and made her my side
I got some niggas who ride
Lil buddy was trippin, I might catch you slipping
No Dm but I'm finna slide, Got bread now they wanna slice, choppa gon hit ray rice...
No dots but dippin, we do this fa business, in yo bitch hair no lice

Submission, we aim fa ya head, locked up like melly
Gotcha hand on the heart no pledge, birdman, you gone respect me
Y'all acting like bitches u petty... you needa stop
Glock to his eye over Fetty... got his ass wapped
New name I go by nick, cuz I got them cannons and I got the drums
My dog mess around wit them sticks, aint no 5k but you betta run
Im up and you stuck hitting hitting licks, what you gone say when you next to that judge
Like Brady it's rare that miss, he got that Tecca and you outta luck

What that boy said
Got them racks and they come in 2 ways
I don't rock belts I rock shoe lace
Leave me alone you is 2 faced
Just got a bag and it's Tuesday
I'm really not wit the chit chat
You gotta a problem, I fix that
I rock whatever It's miss matched
Half a dozen that's like 6 racks
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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I'm bout my bread, I'm bout my peso
Shawty she do what I say so
Don't hit my line, ween talking no cheese lil boy cuz I'm all bout my queso

Do what I do, and it's case closed
All foreign, might cop me a range rove
Pull up and show out that's just what I do, if you din know me, learn the name tho

Know that I'm next up
Boy I stay flex up
Paven produced it... now you dancing Like Tyler, no step up

Nigga won't stress us
Get em gon stretcher
I stunt on a old hoes, now I'm flexed up just like a wrestler

Aye aye lil shawty why you walk like that, lil shawty why talk like that that
Riding 5 deep know we packed in a coupe f*ck around just might catch a flat

Lil shawty why you walk like that
Lil shawty why talk like that that
Riding 5 deep know we packed in a coupe f*ck around just might catch a flat

I'm bout my bread that's all
Ballin like paul gasol
I'm on mission, get money flippin, they stacked like shaq, that's tall

Niggas all cap, they talk
No we not done we raw
Lil Buddy was playin, that stick got sprayin now bodies outlined in chalk

Got 12 they drawing wit chalk... this ain't no play ground
Got niggas who ready to spark, hoe betta lay down
Got 12 they drawing wit chalk... this ain't no play ground
Got niggas who ready to spark, hoe betta lay down

I took yo main and made her my side
I got some niggas who ride
Lil buddy was trippin, I might catch you slipping
No Dm but I'm finna slide, Got bread now they wanna slice, choppa gon hit ray rice...
No dots but dippin, we do this fa business, in yo bitch hair no lice

Submission, we aim fa ya head, locked up like melly
Gotcha hand on the heart no pledge, birdman, you gone respect me
Y'all acting like bitches u petty... you needa stop
Glock to his eye over Fetty... got his ass wapped
New name I go by nick, cuz I got them cannons and I got the drums
My dog mess around wit them sticks, aint no 5k but you betta run
Im up and you stuck hitting hitting licks, what you gone say when you next to that judge
Like Brady it's rare that miss, he got that Tecca and you outta luck

What that boy said
Got them racks and they come in 2 ways
I don't rock belts I rock shoe lace
Leave me alone you is 2 faced
Just got a bag and it's Tuesday
I'm really not wit the chit chat
You gotta a problem, I fix that
I rock whatever It's miss matched
Half a dozen that's like 6 racks
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Reggie Williams
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

Back to: $aucy Reggie

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