5 Finger Posse - 2 GRAMS lyrics
**Evil ways, p**y!** [Hook: WIFIGAWD] 2 grams of the boof Bad b**h comin' through I'm like what it do I might f** with you b**h I'm state to state f** up out my face I'm stuck in my ways I love getting paid 2 grams of the boof Bad b**h comin' thru 2 grams of the boof Bad b**h comin' through 2 grams of the boof Bad b**h comin' through I'm like what it do I might f** with you b**h I'm state to state f** up out my face I'm stuck in my ways I love gettin' paid [Verse 1: Alvin Abyss] In a foreign coupe, sneaks say Jimmy Choo Bad b**h she choosy, tryna f** the crew All I rock is vintage sh**, they can keep the True RLX's on my sleeve when I'm slidin' through 2 band shawty bought them bands 2 band shawty got them xans What you need just hit my jack You need it b**h, I'm servin' thraxx 2 band shawty bought them bands 2 band shawty got them xans What you need just hit my jack You need it b**h, I'm servin' thraxx Gucci belt, it straight from Saks Gucci b**h, she blow my swag Baby girl gone shake that a** When I'm throwin' out them racks [Verse 2: Morgue!] My steez from 92 I need that f**in' [?] 3M on my shoes Designer so she choose Triple five on the side, pull up in that coupe Hood rich, wet like sushi Wanna give me [chew?] Triple five on the side, pull up in that coupe Hood rich, look like wet like sushi Wanna give me [chew?] Like a f**in' gym cla** I'm flexin' with my crew Throwin' money out the roof, smokin' like Snoop A n***a really got the sauce, Five got the juice These n***as lackin', I'll be blackin' in the f**in' [?] [Hook: Wifigawd] 2 grams of the boof Bad b**h comin' through I'm like what it do I might f** with you b**h I'm state to state f** up out my face I'm stuck in my ways I love gettin' paid 2 grams of the boof Bad b**h comin' through I'm like what it do I might f** with you b**h I'm state to state f** up out my face I'm stuck in my ways I love gettin' paid **Damn, son!** [Verse 3: WIFIGAWD] All of my b**hes look proper I do not f** with the ops Shawty got hit with the chopper Mami got hit with the llama p**y n***a havin' problems But all of my n***as is problem All of my n***as who start They [?] like [?] p**y n***a havin' problems But all of my n***as is problem All of my n***as who start They [?] like [?] p**y n***a havin' problems But all of my n***as is problem All of my n***as who start They [?] like [?] Wait, wait, please don't hit my line b**h, don't waste my time Trappin' out the [?] Light this sh** on fire Come up with that fire Why you smokin' quiet b**h you [?] [Verse 4: Yung Mojo] Bag it up, bag it up, I'm boutta leave my [?] Bag it up, bag it up, yeah, I'm servin' O's Bag it up, bag it up, I got hella 'dro What you really need, you can hit my phone Need my money, I ain't frontin', you can hit the door Louis V, the double G, designer head to toe Need my money, I ain't frontin', you can hit the door Louis V, the double G, designer head to toe Cast a spell on that b**h, she can never go She's got a n***a, but she'll always be my lil' hoe She a lil' freak, she say I'm too creep In the trap, countin' bands, I don't go to sleep I was rollin' off them xans for a f**in' week Ain't no lick you can get hit with this f**in' heat