Tre$o - Stardawg

Don't give a fuck bout what you heard
I'm on the Nawfside yessir
You a lame ass nigga, you can still get murked
Born in the city, sling dope in the burbs
Lil bitch I'm a hard body
Smoking Stardawg, I got some new exotic
And I got in her punani
Now you sad dog, tell me what you gone do about it
I need the guap A$AP like Ferg
I was on my back, I was on your nerves
That's why my heart cold like a iceberg
Fo' flip them packs like You Got Served
Fuck about what you heard
No cap nigga I don't work at Lids
Booty call, she got an urge
Trigga, my finger itch
My niggas reckless pull up on the side of your car and they blast on the side of you
Every time that it's snowing just look at my footprints, you gone see some designer shoes
Wake up asking my girl who fine as you
They catching up, they trying to
Don't you slide on my mans we finding who
Pigs make me sick, no Swine Flu
She throw it back and might turn to a beast
All of my NY niggas they said she a treesh
She sucking my dick, shawty a leech
She wanted love, gave her back to the streets
Yea we dropping her off, take her back to the club
Me and my shooter we matching the slugs
That's if you want pressure, ain't coming with hugs
Boy if it's pressure we coming for blood
I come from the Mil, I come from the mud
Run a red light nigga no fucks
For post traumatic disorders we cope with drugs
All of em modern day savage, Internet thugs
Don't give a fuck bout what you heard
I'm on the Nawfside yessir
You a lame ass nigga, you can still get murked
Born in the city, sling dope in the burbs
Lil bitch I'm a hard body
Smoking Stardawg, I got some new exotic
And I got in her punani
Now you sad dog, tell me what you gone do about it
I need the guap A$AP like Ferg
I was on my back, I was on your nerves
That's why my heart cold like a iceberg
Fo' flip them packs like You Got Served
Fuck about what you heard
No cap nigga I don't work at Lids
Booty call, she got an urge
Trigga, my finger itch
Yea yea yea, my finger itch
Yea yea yea, my finger itch
Yea yea yea, my finger itch
Yea yea yea, my finger itch
Up in this bitch
Yea Tre so hard that nigga lit
He getting guap, he tryna get rich
He ain't on the block, they talking shit
That's why my trigger finger itching itching, it got a itch
That's why my trigger finger itching itching, nigga finna get split

Written by:
Chris Mitchell

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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