Big Foe Peaz - Arrangments (feat. Kerch Dolla)

Leary Luv in the kitchen, tryna make a salad
What up, Leary i'm loving it
Leary Luv on the beat, yeah, doing the arrangements
I told y'all pull up to the Coney at three, we had an arrangement
My dog gotta go see the judge next week for his arraignment
Me and my baby smoke Crud out the P, it's for entertainment
Leary luv on the beat, yeah
Doin' the arrangements
My dawg gotta go, see the judge next week
It's for his arrangement
I told y'all pull up to the Coney at three
We had an arrangement
Me and my baby smoke crud out the p
It's for entertainment
Shit real life ill pop pills smoke kill spend bills, daily arrangements
We trill too real big meals, yeah
Chain on big chill, yeah
Stand up, nigga, or stand still
Fuck niggas, thought on the man still
Fuck niggas thought I was gon' go light
After all this time, gotta make shit right
Racks on deck, bitch, this is my life
Made a whole lot of cheese off the studio time
I don't flex on the gram, I don't do it for the hype
Yeah, pimp said fuck niggas, told him I aight
Need a good check if you want me to write
Need a whole nother check if I touch my tools
Big foe peaz took all, y'all to school
Throw a big party, push y'all in the pool
Leary, it's up, I done found my groove
Bitch seen me, lost all her cool
Racks seen the op, lost all his screws
Man, how the shit end Man it's all on you
Leary Luv on the beat, yeah, doing the arrangements
I told y'all pull up to the Coney at three, we had an arrangement
My dog gotta go see the judge next week for his arraignment
Me and my baby smoke Crud out the P, it's for entertainment
Leary luv on the beat, yeah
Doin' the arrangements
My dawg gotta go, see the judge next week
It's for his arrangement
I told y'all pull up to the Coney at three
We had an arrangement
Me and my baby smoke crud out the p
It's for entertainment
If I gotta do a bid, you gon' wait on me
Or you gon' leave
I love eating white rice with chicken
In my spare time, I sell peas
She wanna fuck me in the shower
It don't get wet like that, I believe
I don't sit in the studio and don't get air time
I just leave
Only reason y'all think True Religion came back now
Cause Supreme
Keep screaming out free my nigga otto racks now
Until he free
Why everybody jumping on his lace front bandwagon
What happened to the weave
Why everybody jumping on my dick now
Why y'all hating on me
Jump out the coupe in the middle of the street
And just leave it
I got Gigi in right now
I'm only selling boes for 13
I got the glasses that calvin had on right now
When he robbed him for that cheese
Why streak running up von leg in 2k
Bitch, you bettin' real cheese
Break down the brick, sell a brick
You irrelevant, I'm relevant
Got sum on my neck like a reverend
Or a pastor
Bitch, you celibate
Bitch, you stressed out
I got pills getting pressed out
When it come to the weight i max out
Had Rogue as my spot worker at the crack house
Nigga pushing them packs out
Dolla

Written by:
Patrick Harrison

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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