Who made this shit?
Tay -Tay made the beat
Double cup, pour it up, man
Lean lean lean, I drink pure codeine
Don't care what you think, I can't quit my lean
And if you do leave, I'ma drink till I'm sleepy
Double cup, I fill with meth, you know I'm powder
Sippin' deuce, it's for my style
It's ugly, no one I can trust, it's deadly
Tension, it busts straight to heaven
Why I send a pussy ball?
Oh, you ain't makin' it, well, fuck your friend
It's up to you and God
And that car was stolen, Rose
Do a drill, I own the bar
Break the block, that's me at ten
Have three, three, go wrap the car
Oh, glory, glory
And this is my thug nigga story
Oh, sniffed up, oh God, my soul
Oh, I need you now, I'm on my own
They call my phone
I know you up in Salt Lake City
It won't be long until I kill you
Alright, my boy, alright, I'm ready
For any nigga that want my 50
For any nigga that want a stretch
Man, it ain't safe, this shit get deadly
Wanna kill me, these niggas can't see me
They never gon' give me, they never gon' feel me
I'ma shoot you whenever I see you
Until I steal you, now, that's real, bitch
I ain't about to mislead you
Cause I'ma game you up and I'ma teach you
I just got a fresh bottle of blessing oil from my preacher
Born and raised in the soil
Drinking, drinking, smoking reefer
Where the zombies shoot their needles
Between they toes and between they fingers
I come from a broken home
Nobody threw me a bone
Or gave me a loan, they wrong
I flourished on niggas and got to the riches
Now look at me, Pat, now I'm on
I'm giving my God all the praise and the glory
My part of the thug nigga story
My Uncle St. Charles taught me the game
He was my Barry Gordy
Trying to keep my head above choppy waters
My frame of mind is unbothered
The life that I live is managed
A lot of rappers are fathers
They call me E. Fortin, the creator of Mango Scotto
Girl Stevens, you can read my name on the bottle
You sipping your potion?
I'm sipping my potion
You having your motion?
I'm having my motion
Your foot on the gas?
My foot on the gas
Smashing and yolking?
I'm smashing and yolking
You popping your P's?
You making your rounds?
You checking your tracks?
You pushing your pounds?
You stacking your racks?
You holding it down?
You living your raps?
You loaning your town?
Double fist in the double cup in the mud
A lot of my weepers is on white people drugs
Out here in the octagon in a smudge
Where the cherries say hands up, don't budge
Oh, glory, glory
And this is my dog nigga story
Oh, sniffed up, oh God, my soul
I need you now, I'm on my own
They call my phone
I know you up in Salt Lake City
It won't be long until I key
Alright, my boy
Alright, my boy
