From the 4-1 fever to the 8-0 feezy, the 7-0 deuce, gin and juice and some

Gangsters, cheetah, bouncing, clowning.

The Don and Click One, Triple C's money count.

4-1 fever to the 8-0 feezy.

The 7-0 hoops, gin and juice and some

G'd up, bouncin', clownin', the Donnie click one, triple C's runnin' down.

I'm runnin' through motherfuckers that get in my way.

Like Timmy McVay, blowing it up, throwing it up.

The triple C's so in it.

You motherfuckers left the hate, need to grow the fuck up Show me the stuff, you weak, I'ma show you the rough

You know you a punk, you bitches known for faking the funk It's what the fuck that I'm talking about, fuck talking it out

Put your Glock in his mouth, my love.

Better or better, just put the Glock in his mouth.

Girl, let the shots ring out.

What's the sound as the flames came out?

Chop top on his crown.

brain saying I should stop.

All buses better change their route.

Try to die for my block.

Get this cheddar and

Bounce, headhunter, fed, run a big bread, awesome, a throat cutter, packing lead, here you dead.

the shit up and then we'd rather

When we ride, you gonna die tonight.

to fly smoke your shit up and then we ride when we ride you're gonna die tonight we

big homie running through the streets with a nine in the wickedest minds and i ain't hard to find i'll probably quit

Creeping through the bushes right next to your window.

I got my shit loaded, ready to make you walk away with my homie metal.

And my dog, Siskelini.

And my motherfucking local bad boy, Bossolini.

It's all about the cheddar.

to a die for the third letter.

I thought I told you triple crazy does better.

Now if you don't know who the

I is by the time the Sun comes up.

I become part of your business triple-c motherfucker

or say it with your laugh.

Mama and daddy be ashamed of the little boy grew up to be a north child.

Cucaracha, fuckin' soca, bloodier than sopa, línea de coca, yo weed.

Should've stuck to mortar.

I'm right behind it.

It's about that.

Multiplier.

Smoke your shit up, and then we ride When we ride, you gon' die tonight

apply smoke your shit up and then we ride when we ride you

Die tonight, we got bullets inside of mine.

Knock it, yeah, I'll do it over with my cock in your spine.

You talkin' to loud Whackin' when I'm rockin' the crowd I'm cockin' the pound Lord, I hit you blockin' the mouth You chockin' my stomach

But I'm lockin' it down, I'm lickin' the truth Niggas and I'm speakin' to you, you fuck with the C's

Cause I bleed for the two, I'm leaving the blue.

No, tonight, leaving the clue.

Click to the one, sister.

Don't check it, man.

Never been a smash hit the gas at school.

Get up and get wet up with that bus blast.

Duck down to lay low, suffer the KO.

Get rushed to touch bar, dozen hitters on my payroll.

Cousins from the clique want Bad boy, this dick want Brown bro metal, my pedos want it Come get some, don't trip or slip

In my Mexicali kingdom, six quarter dimes Dropping bombs on the weak ones

the plot smoke your shit up and then we ride when we ride you're gonna die tonight we

to fly smoke the shit up and then we ride when we ride you're gonna die tonight we

Oh.

Cheetah.

Bouncing.

Clowning.

The Don and Click one.

Triple C's.

One of the cows.

I'm a soldier.

8-0 VZ, the 7-0 boost, gin and juice and some breezes.

Gangstas, G'd up, bouncin'.

Clownin' Da Don and Click One Triple C's when it countin'