Yerk 30 Songtext

I made a lot out a little
I ain't gon' hop out, I'm with you
I ain't gon' plot against you
If they turn, I'm hoppin' the fence too

I started out with nothin'
I ain't have a pot to go piss to
You rich, I'm rich as a bitch too
I'll spin a dub in this bitch too
And bitch I stay with Sizzle
We made a lot from little
Exotic chucks from out the Runtz
I fill the blunt with Skittles
And bitch, this clique don't fit you
Pause, suck a dick too
You know I stay glued to this pistol
Cock that bitch back, it's the ritual
Bitches like pitbulls, I'ma sic at you
Gotta get you up outta here, we sinkin' you
Had to hop out the Audi and get the coupe Got two Bentleys, them bitches identical
'Bout to get a Lambo truck when it drop
Told foenem it's merch, that's on Rock
That don't mean after that I'm gon' stop
I might get another whip if it's more hot
You know I ain't gotta ride with the door locked
Got some shit on my lap like a robot
So I gotta bust a left at the roadblock
Bust a right, hop out on your block
We ain't tryna spot you, that's adios
Fuck around and get did like Geronimo
Could see that boy head when you got close
He was fuckin' with somebody mama, though
In the street all you got is your honor, though
Get respect, yeah, that bitch like a pot of gold
Went to school of hard knocks and graduated
Yeah, I stayed on the block like the honor roll
But I stayed bumpin' heads with my mama though
Started gettin' money, now she think she my homie
Bought a Glock, I ain't get it from Carlos
I was livin' two blocks right up off Stoney
Shoot this bitch broad day if you run up on me
Two hundred in the crib so I'm comin' home, then
You ain't even got five hundred to your name
Couldn't even bury yourself, pussy, run along, then
Now your mama fucked up, callin' your homies
And they broke as fuck, tell me what they gon' load in?
Bullets leave a nigga fucked up like pneumonia
Nah, nigga got me fucked up, run up on him
Man, a nigga done lucked up, he ain't a goner
Man, this bitch done jammed up, I don't want here
Man, hand me that other bitch, spin the corner
Man, you on that sucker shit, spin the corner, uh

Yerk 30 high, real dirty Sprite
Bitch, you heard me right
Live a dirty life, clutch my 30 tight
Eatin' at the gangster table, splittin' dirty rice
Bitch, this shit like Cosa Nostra, yeah, you heard it right
Might teach you how to beat a murder if you word it right
I made a lot out a little
I ain't gon' hop out, I'm with you
I ain't gon' plot against you
If they turn, I'm hoppin' the fence too

You'd be surprised
If you need me, what you find
I'm like beep beep, GT flyin'
And I'm knee-deep in these diamonds
Not yet, you ain't realized
Got opportunities, you just minimizing
You just want immunity and you'll disguise in it
Ooh, I should put one of your eyes in it
Didn't your granny ever tell you to mind business?
It's only yours, pussy, close them doors, pussy
We don't got no two neighbors on the same floor, ain't no recordin', looky
I smoke exotic, ditched the Runtz, Biscotti or some more Cookie
That shit you smokin' on a hundred a zip, you can't afford lookin'
Lil' bro countin' racks he made off sports, he like his own bookie
I just left from Saks to find the shorts that match my Fendi hoodie
They offered me 200 racks to wear this clothing line, I should've took it
I told 'em I need a milli' 'cause I stay fresh as fuck, I was bein' bumptious
Really I was bein' silly, 'cause that shit was wack as fuck, I ain't even want shit
Belaire sent my money a couple months ago, I ain't even touched it
Told 'em I want it full when I go on tour, but that's another subject
Know I'ma bring the gang but we'll speak later 'cause that's another budget
Afterparty's booked, that's another quarter just to go out in public
Know foenem tryna fuck with all the hoes and shit so I'm like, "Fuck it"
Everybody came to party, but a few startin' some', what's all that ruckus?
Know we gon' go retarded, bitch, it's hundred shots on all our busters

Yerk 30 high, real dirty Sprite
Bitch, you heard me right
Live a dirty life, clutch my 30 tight
Eatin' at the gangster table, splittin' dirty rice
Bitch, this shit like Cosa Nostra, yeah, you heard it right
Might teach you how to beat a murder if you word it right
I made a lot out a little
I ain't gon' hop out, I'm with you
I ain't gon' plot against you
If they turn, I'm hoppin' the fence too