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paid in full - b.c.a mike lyrics

haaaa
gang
gang
gang

i slide thru your m*th*f*ckin city
2 glocks 2 drums b*tch look like some titties
headshot deadshot aim right at his fitted
i walk in the club and i’m clutching that smitty
i catch his ass lacking ian leaving no witness
pillow talk to a b*tch tryna blemish my image
wanna link up 5v5 no scrimmage
you speak on the gang and we upping them semi’s
you speak on the gang and we upping them poles
pull up to the club and we rocking the show
i’m sipping that tec got me moving real slow
but you know that i’m always clutching that pole
so run up on me and i’m upping the score
n*gga claim he shooter but that n*gga froze
n*gga said f*ck 12 but that n*gga told
n*gga say he in the streets but he really a hoe
tryna find big ealey yeah i be in the trap house
and i’m scr*pped with that glock and i’m counting them sacks down
feel like stanley get the f*ck off my grass now
and i’m f*cking your b*tch only want her from the waist down
and my n*ggas sliding we don’t need no playground
caught him at the corner store now he in the grave now
play with the gang you gone hear how that k sound
we slide on yo block and we let off a hunnid rounds
bca be the gang

aye

i tried to keep my cool but n*ggas steady testing me
these b*tches all deceived i can’t let em get the best of me
that codeine in my drank see nun but codeine when i pee
inhaling za the odor foul where the f*ck the referee
we take off his face we gone leave his ass slumped
smoking on gas sh*t smell like a skunk
breast cancer my pockets got hundreds in lumps
turn up at your party we get the sh*t crunk
you send off a diss ima throw you some bullets like brady
or you can robbed like grunk
gone off this drank in the whip while driving ms daisy
meditating like a monk
pop a x cause my ex b*tch mad she got dumped
my n*ggas gone step you run up you’ll get stomped
can’t f*ck with you n*ggas you n*ggas some punks
hit her from the back while i’m smacking her rump
swerving the scat off codeine like i’m drunk
the motor a beast got some bass in the trunk
you n*ggas is b*tches you n*ggas is chumps
you n*ggas my sons to you im big unc
one call dj he pull up with the pump
aye

2 choppas 4 titties this sh*t can wicked
lil b*tch can get d*ck but that p*ssy won’t l!ck it
rolling up gas and this sh*t kinda sticky
don’t try to run off bullets hit ya like ricky
realest around feel like i need a metal
i’m high as the f*ck you can’t get on my level
12 get behind me i stomp on the pedal
i need me a lot so for less i won’t settle
my city chaotic its always some sh*t
can’t trust a n*gga they really be sl!ck
chasing a bag no i never won’t quit
pull up to the mall spend some racks on a fit
come from the sip you know this sh*t can get muddy
i’m f*cking a b*tch while she f*cking her buddy
talking that sh*t
pull up… huggie
wet up your block make a whole lot of ruckus
can’t catch me lacking i stay on my pivot
hit em with 2 call that n*gga blake griffin
this clip 33 make me feel like i’m pippen
hit you and your mans just because you was with em
rolling up gas you know i’m smoking on diesel
hit from back then you know i’ma leave her
only exotic don’t f*ck with the reefer
posted in the jack better not f*ck with my people
i tried to keep my cool but n*ggas steady testing me
these b*tches all deceived i can’t let em get the best of me
that codeine in my drank see nun but codeine when i pee
inhaling za the odor foul where the f*ck the referee

- b c a mike lyrics

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