$hakkyDaP - Backwoods

Where the fuck is your wood at nigga
You was not invited to this party
Ayy, you better have your own wood, cause I ain't passing mine
No I don't smoke grams, I can't match a 5
If a nigga chief my wood, then that's a crime
Took the time, got the formula, I'm a mastermind
Real life black ops, it's dark matter time
I miss my pops a lot, nigga I love em til the afterlife
I've been punching niggas, I ain't even have to swipe
The way she bake the cake, made you think that it's batter time
Yo bitch bad, but mine's the badder kind
This the type of tree to have you high, til after nine
No more liquor in the store, she said pass the wine
Niggas want ho ho hoes, they must think it's Santa time
You can never catch up to me, cause I'm on chapter five
Has your chick ever cheated and you asked her why
Has your chick ever cheated and you asked her why
Has your bitch ever cheated nigga and you asked her why

Like why in the fuck would you do that
Knowing I can get real wavy with my durag
Take a nigga bitch, now he want his boo back
Something like the straw hats, nigga where your crew at

Broke ass niggas
Quick to cut a bitch off, that's a new fan
A couple niggas moved schools, they ain't move back
Walked in the mall, bitch I'm asking where the trues at
Asked fans who could put Az on, they said you can
I'm King Julian, feeling like a new man
Fuck my ex, my next, gon get a new man
I dislike niggas, always asking where the food at
How the fuck you want beef, but asking where the soup at
Where the Za and the woods, let's hit the stu man
I hate liars and cheetahs , but gorillas where the zoo at
This is not a fanny pack, bitch this my Louie bag
It's still fuck the haters, don't ask me where the truce at
RIP to Wayneo , they should bring Bruce back
If the wack is on stock, then hit your juice dance
Two plus two is five, all I know is cool math
I'm a cook for my lady, welcome to the food trap

If you fuck with my family or stab me, you'll get blew back
Nah I don't bang, but you'd think that I'm a blues fan
Boy must be off the dirty, asking where the blues at
Handy manny, hell nah, you can't get your tool back

Hey, you better have your own wood
Cause I ain't passing mine
No, I don't smoke grams
I can't match a five,
If a nigga chief my wood
Then that's a crime
Took the time, got the formula, I'm a mastermind
Real life black ops, it's dark matter time
I miss my pops a lot, nigga I love him till the afterlife
I've been punching niggas, I ain't even had to swipe
The way she bake the cake, made you think that it's batter time
Yo bitch bad, but mine's the badder kind
This the type of tree that have you high, till after nine
No more liquor in the store, she said pass the wine
Niggas want ho ho hoes, they must think it's santa time
You can never catch up to me, cause I'm on chapter five
Has your chick ever cheated, and you asked her why
Has your chick ever cheated, and you asked her why
Has your bitch ever cheated nigga, and you asked her why

Written by:
Shakkur Hill

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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