Ms. Aims - Presidential 44 (feat. Greg South)
We came from getting shit out the mudAin't nothing every giving to you
We doing shit wit ease
Its that 252
Presidential 44
No matter the process
Just know its growth
One time for the niggas
One time for the bitches
Two times for dealers
Two times for the strippers
One time for the niggas
One time for the bitches
Two times for dealers
And two times for the strippers
You rich bitch you better get richer
Can't be broke and be happy I'm being real witcha
Straight facts up till you die nigga you tryna get it
My grandma was 80yrs old scratching lotto tickets
So u know I mean business
All about getting them millions
Can't be out here calling plays and ain't got the balls to pitch em
Every move a bitch make is gone be earned commission
Want six zeros in the bank in front of them triple digits
This for the niggas out getting it
This for the bitches out spending it
With a backpack full of blue stacks
Getting racks to the max
Til the Feds stop printing it
Get yo mind on track I'll train you how to conduct business
Cause Lord as my witness imma do more than feed my children
Out to get them 40 acres y'all can keep that mule
That's old school a bitch need something jet fueled
Dealers out here making packs moves
Fist up I salute you
And the same to them strippers thats getting that dollar every time they ass move
Money baby, money baby
I know that shit is the motive daily, motive daily
Hustle can't get it by being lazy, being lazy
Can't trust no bitch wit her hands out
When God blessed you with a brain, and a body, and a mouth
They say we couldn't
But yes we can
They say we wouldn't
Well I be damn
We back on these streets
By popular demand
Heard some niggas still sleeping on me
Must be poppin them xans
They say we couldn't
But yes we can
They say we wouldn't
Well I be damn
We back on these streets
By popular demand
Heard some niggas still sleeping on me
Must be poppin them xans
Posta to died at 18
Been in brown or state greens
OD off Molly or the lean
Or new neighborhood dope fiend
To the game I charge it
No love I feel so heartless
Heard these niggas wanna take my life from me
I guess I'm walking wit targets
Gotta raise my youngins
Till I die I'ma keep it 100
I ain't had me nothing
So you know I gotta get us something
Word to DJ Paul and Juicy J you know I run it
I ain't looking for problems
But if they come you know I ain't running
I'm chasing bags
Outta state tags
Flying jet lagged
Why can't it all be so simple
Like mongooses wit 4 pegs
My homeboy got no legs
Car crash posta been dead
Doctor said he never walk again
Looked at me know what he said
They say we couldn't
But yes we can
They say we wouldn't
Well I be damn
We back on these streets
By popular demand
Heard some niggas still sleeping on me
Must be poppin them xans
They say we couldn't
But yes we can
They say we wouldn't
Well I be damn
We back on these streets
By popular demand
Heard some niggas still sleeping on me
Must be poppin them xans
Written by:
Aimee Speight, Gregory Parker, Juan Bradley
Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
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