Gettin' Jiggy Video (MV)

Ayy, this beat is dirty, so just watch how I get jiggy on it
Bro just slapped a donut on the Glock, now it got 50 on it
Yeah, I got a brand new number, bitty, so don't hit me on it
I don't want the head if it ain't nasty, so she spittin' on it
Ayy, who want smoke with us
Pull up in that black tinted whip with the 40 tucked
Smokin' back to back, we celebrate, who got your homie plucked
Henny got these bitches showin' titties, told her f*ck it up
Ready for retaliation, the reaper comin' for me
All the shit I done won't be surprised, they get the gunnin' from me
Kickin' bitches to the curb, if she won't make a hundred for me
Sorry baby, I just want the cheese because I love the money
Clutch the 40 while I push the whip, I'm feelin' extra safe
Tryna make sure all my niggas eat, we need some extra plates
And yes, I told the bitch I love her, but that was yesterday
And if she wanna keep me in her life, then bring that check today
Slidin' down the block, mind steady on extortion
Kill your mama's son, now that's a grown-ass abortion
Get it out the bitch, know she bringin' in a fortune
Baby, I'm just tryna Ramsey, but I ain't Gordon
Man down, I heard a pussy nigga yellin' Mayday
Now we outta here, put the nigga on a vacay
Tryna take me out, we takin' suckas the same way
Take my Glock to hell and shoot as soon as I see JJ
Niggas postin' guns on the gram, get em' whacked quick
Then we slide through the candlelight, it get that sick
I can never ever put my trust into a whack bitch
Baby, breakin' bread and givin' head, make the trap flip
Bro just brought a rocket in the party, do we have a problem
I'm the type, don't do the internet, I'm f*ckin' niggas' mamas
Why you keep on typin' like you niggas really want the drama
Seen him face-to-face and tried to grill him like some Benihana
Where Dre, if I find him, bet I'm pissin' on his face
Shootin' movies with these clips, a cold case
I bet if I tell Brody, hit your bitch, he on the way
She gon' bust it, cause she know her last nigga was a lame
Caught him in the open, point him out, he tuckin' chain
Ayy, look Brody, he been hungry and he dyin' for a stain
How you walkin' with the ice aint got a car, nigga, strange
But my nigga steady creepin' in that motherf*ckin' Range
Ayy, I don't want the bitty, you can have her
Met her on the gram shit, I'm just tryna double-tap her
Someone tell these niggas that P.T. is not a rapper
My bitch be touchin' bands, but I ain't say she was a scammer
Glock 21, hit stick, Sean Taylor
She ain't playin' for the right team, got a trade her
I don't do the feelings, baby, all about the paper
Heard I break bitches, she gon' still let me break her
It's P.T