Boss Bigg & Chav - Head 2 Toe

Lemme bump sumn real quik
Yeah
You know wtf goin on man
Biggee nigga
Whole lotta gang shit goin on
Nah mean
Ayy
Im in designer from head to toe
Fukk dat lil bitch one time and im ret ta go
You aint no gangsta I thought I should let you know
You aint no plug I finessed em wit Oregano
Trap trap run up a stash you steady broke
Too much drip might splash like a levy broke
One night wit her and she callin the wedding off
Dog food clean but I mixed it wit fentanyl
I had to trap just to get a bag
If I get dat hoe you won’t get her back
Designer fashion hell naw we dont check bags
Been fly so long young nigga got jet lag
Brick in da pot bouta cook up a fresh slab
Too many traps I want me a meth lab
Too many bags got gas like Exxon
Bails on da way but I need me a metro-ton
Gelato gelato I need me a extra lung
Come from the hood gotta keep you a extra gun
223 Shells when yo block get spun
Draw down wit dat 100 round drum they wont let ya run
I got a beam on a dirty K
Landed at LAX found a plug in the Bay
You like Eliot Ness and thats where we different
I say Eliot Ness boy because ya snitchin
VVS diamonds on me came from the district
Big ol draco it hit wit precision
Trap trap trap all my niggas on a money mission
Draped in designer that limited edition
Kyrie Irv get that rock and I dish it
Close that window who let all these birds in the kitchen
Lord knows we been thuggin since elementary
On soul free my bros from the penitentiary
Fukk 12!
Free all of my niggas
This shit dont make sense to me
Drip from my head to my toe
Custom made Gucci this drip from Italy
Fukkin a foreign lil bitch I think she from Sicily
Gold on my neck got me feelin like Mr T
They aint show me no love or no sympathy
Head shots put em out of his misery
Niggas be flaggin get hit wit a penalty
She sucked my soul I ran outta energy
You broke as a bitch boy is you kiddin me
Too many racks cant fit in my Amiri jeans
Treat my wrist like the Marta nigga just bus it
Drake wit the 762’s dont touch me
You get hit wit dis shit and you breathing you lucky
I slid down his block but niggas was duckin
Bitch hit da dope she know dat we fukkin
Gang in da vip you know that we clutchin
I crank up the motor the dash 200
I just got a load I whip it and stuff it
Im cookin up O’s
Yea im choppin a onion
Stay down in the trap til that sack abundant
Feds did a sweep but I stay on my toes like a bunion
Trap trap trap got chips like Funyuns
Ayy
Im in designer from head to toe
Fukk dat lil bitch one time and im ret ta go
You aint no gangsta I thought I should let you know
You aint no plug I finessed em wit Oregano
Trap trap run up a stash you steady broke
Too much drip might splash like a levy broke
One night wit her and she callin the wedding off
Dog food clean but I mixed it wit fentanyl
I had to trap just to get a bag
If I get dat hoe you won’t get her back
Designer fashion hell naw we dont check bags
Been fly so long young nigga got jet lag
Brick in da pot bouta cook up a fresh slab
Too many traps I want me a meth lab
Too many bags got gas like Exxon
Bails on da way but I need me a metro-ton

Written by:
Christopher Romero, Christopher Wesley

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

Lyrics powered by Lyric Find