Drumma Boy - Touchdown lyrics

[Intro] (Uh, oh) Aye you know I'm c**aine crazy right ? (Looks like a blowout) These n***as go white this, white that Quit f**ing with me (white everything) Aye lil b**h I f** with talk bout she want white cat You know this my city n***a! (ho you crazy) p**y a** n***a (Cocaine 4) [Hook] I got ba** in the trunk, highs on the inside Marshmallow paint, 49ers on the inside Touchdown, a n***a going long Field goal, extra point a n***a going strong 210 on the dash, Blue jean inside White wit blue top, like the Yankees when I come pastt Home run, that boy out the park Bases loaded, world series, that boy hustle smart [Verse 1] Streets talking, Gotti been doing good n***as wanna try em, couple n***as from the hood You know how that go, n***as say you dont f** with em Truth be told when I was hustlin I ain't f** with em (f** em) Same n***a still owe me on a pack Think a n***a forgot because I'm rappin? (nah) When I get off the road, I shoot back to my town New whips, new watch, f** with me, its going down Own family hating, n***as looking mad Guess it be little better if a n***a was doing bad, But momma got a smile Brother still wild I gotta get this money, I just had another child, They say I'm getting fat, guess I'm eating good 20 racks in the motor, got my name under the hood, (Yo Gotti), Sometimes I think back, I could've went fed This a chance in a lifetime, I gotta think ahead [Hook] I got ba** in the trunk, highs on the inside Marshmallow paint, 49ers on the inside Touchdown, a n***a going long Field goal, extra point a n***a going strong 210 on the dash, Blue jean inside White wit blue top, like the Yankees when I come pastt Home run, that boy out the park Bases loaded, world series, that boy hustle smart [Verse 2] My city rooting for me, the club owners mad, cause I won't come to kick it for under 25 bands And you taking it personal I'm just tryna feed my man's See you ain't a real n***a so that's something you wouldn't understand But if it wern't for my homeboys and if it wern't for my fans I would of been clicked on u b**hes, doing a quarter off in the can But I'mma keep on grinding and keep on shining cause thats what you can't stand And I'mma k** u b**hes softly every time I ride pa** What the f** make you wanna compete with me? Like you street as me Running round here talking down, b**h you ain't use to be with me b**h you ain't use to tote heat with me b**h you ain't use to eat with me b**h I was thuggin in ridgecrest yo funky a** was somewhere down da street Yo f** a** ain't no real g Tell me where they do that at Gang bang in yo neighborhood but round me wouldn't even throw up your set Motherf**ers do anything for a check, ok thats cool But don't f** around and let Project Pat or Juicy J get your a** wet On another note I'm the same n***a wit mo paper and more bigger And when ever I'm in town b**h I'm right here on shady vista My j**elry on, and my car parked, my shirt off with no pistol Ain't nan, n***a gone take nuttn My lil n***as a shake sum My lil n***as got mo paper, my lil n***as don't even rap Runnin round talk bout you got signed, b**h you still living in the trap [Hook] I got ba** in the trunk, highs on the inside Marshmallow paint, 49ers on the inside Touchdown, a n***a going long Field goal, extra point a n***a going strong 210 on the dash, Blue jean inside White wit blue top, like the Yankees when I come pastt Home run, that boy out the park Bases loaded, world series, that boy hustle smart