B-Jay Banks - Connected (feat. Money Montana & Cleanside Kash) Lyrics

Ay Grady, stop playin' wit 'em boy
Sippin' on wock and just popped me a 10
Fresh glock 20, just got me a 10
Spank his lil' ass, leave him right in the wind
I got that dope, hit it with the Fent'
I got that coke, I need me a brick
Dont f*ck with them hoes who go for the 50
Money Montana, hoofing and hooming
I hit your hoe, she calling the dick
Ay
I was on the front street with the guys
I dont know why nigga's wasnt outside
We was outside, leave you outlined
Creepin outside, it's demons outside
We come out fried, high, with a couple irons
It'll be a wild evening outside
Weed got the block reeking outside
Probably got the fiends geeking outside
Pressure
Im on the hunt for that money, Yessuh
I give 'em game, mix the flow with the lecture
I know he a lick, set him up, i'ma test him
Real trap nigga, bag that shit up, i'ma stretch it
I'ma spin a nigga bend and hop in a Lexus
He put dirt on the clean, on 12th, i'ma stretch him (Cleanside)
Get 'em in get 'em off, bitch I be catchin'
12 on my line, bitch I ain't answering no questions
I say hold up
I'm with some old heads sitting on the steps
Sipping on old red, feel like a veteran
I got that glick, go through your vest
I got the stick, it feel like a bat
I got the bitch, bring me a check
Trying to get the Bent, and the new 'Vette
I got the D, pass out the test
Send me a beat, play with the teller
Ol' boy took a hit, got him trippin'
Now when you see him, he nervous and itchin'
Need him a high, I'm the man with the vision
Run me that bag on the 1st when you get it
Make him a victim, a hearse and a ticket
Somebody gone make me come hurt me a nigga
They sounding like me, like I birthed me a nigga
Keep talking that dumb shit, irking me nigga
Send a call out to my youngin' like bring me the whole load
Got big bales by the boatload
F*ck a bitch nigga, shit a no go
Play deaf to 'em like its So So
Back in H Town, shit was so throwed
Selling what you need, what you know bro?
Spend that money with me, I finessed him yeah
Had him feeling like I blessed him yeah
That nigga ain't really did shit in the streets, he be bluffing
My man say he baking his cake, put that shit in the oven
2 sticks when I walk down on his ass, i'ma bust him
Brodie, he clutching
On the clean every day, bitch you know that we juggin'
If i'm shooting the glick bitch you know it's a bucket
It's a hundred band lick, bitch you know i'ma rush it
Beefing hard, got the sticks out in public
I'm in a stolen car, just me, Black and a youngin'
Bitch
Yeah stop playing with us
We down and around like the motherf*cking gum on the ground
Stop playing
Trying to put your hoe out them old shoes and put her in some gold shoes
Ha no cap
Wamp wamp