Fat Trel - Intro (Georgetown) lyrics

[Verse 1:] I got my eye on the score, my new b**h a who*e I swear I just met her, she say she f**ed me before N*gga, I shoot up your Bimmer then hopped in a Porsche We been here before, I got money galore And I pride myself, this nine on my belt Play with your health then take on a shelf Bang, I smoke like an elf I'm rich by myself Yo b**h with my guys we bout to take out cirocs I load up my chopper, I'm finna go slide You know I'm a k**er, just look in my eyes I shoot at his base, he acting surprised I told you we're crazy, don't play Cause I hate the job [Verse 2:] My new b**h a geeko a thirty manino I f** her then leave her Her p**y pop through my speaker They white like Selena, a packed out arena My Rolex is cleaner My white b**h a diva Her daddy a lawyer We both know I need her But when I beat this case I swear this God I'mma leave her Bring this back to my city Georgetown with my n***as Made it East with my junkie Stadium with my strippers You PT with my migo This is multi kilo I got coke out for dealo Then gon' f** in my be yo N*gga, middle finger to see yo Vegas to Rino Run them high out to Mali I see them marrow and Cleo I got bangers and nervers I see police I'm swerving Got my wife in the town My b**h behind her I'm scourging I know I'm young I deserve it Money splurging on purpose I bought the s*utty boys a house b**h get the f** out b**h Out b**h [Verse 3:] Should be s**ing dick You run your mouth b**h I can make the money flip but I can't buy no house fit Dog, b**h he from outta town he buy the counterfeit Set him up, take him down Then evac, know who I found him with Sound kick, 50 clip Hunnid round chopper kit I'm a be at hunnid East staking shrimp with chopsticks Clean sh**, shopping chopper blocks what you got kid Dimple hit a n***a in the chest like a drop kick Oh sh** Feds haunting, sleeping with my old b**h I f** with her, she likes to keep the stove lit Africans and Mexicans, goony town all kinda bad Shooter from Afghanistan, here's to sh** you never had Young Mo, five thou, Chris Bo, side South Dough low, young and throwing bullets like he romo Oh no I just caught the yabba for the low low fu*king with the cash black body bag polo n***as say he want the B, caught him at the go go Ask him what he get from me This murder sh** don't work for free Play with me, you pay a fee Snitches stay away from me These b**hes lay with me, they wanna make a way for me Hustling no chasing me, I'm bout the paper basically Never sleep, A to Z, I turn the ones and twos to three Lots of k**ers under me, right here where I wanna be I don't f** with p**y n***as, Them n***as not one of me Forty four to thirty three, my father sells anything But he don't know the drama that this semi brings I run my own sh** I got my own thing What you mean? s*utty boys over everything What you mean? s*utty boys over everything I'm 500 thousand up on you n***as And I come from North East niga Ain't got sh** to say Georgetown n***a, Georgetown n***a Let's get that money