terrance thorton - bfb da packman lyrics
[chorus]
yeah, yeah, hit it from the back, put that ass in air*air
used to get that pack and hide it in my granny stairwell
she respect my hustle cause she grew up on welfare
told me if i get caught, i better never tell*tell
i am yo pusha man, god blessed me, in love with my tecky
don’t call me by my government, b*tch you ain’t special
i feel bad for all the b*tches that done left me
[verse 1]
came out with a plan, lunch crew, n*ggas like “what the f*ck?”
i ain’t f*ckin with it, i had to double up
one deep, put my plan in motion, now i’m coming up
pull my d*ck out to kiss and b*tches pucker up
selling dope out my granny house but she forgave me
‘f*ck you expect? b*tch, i’m a 90s baby
eating wendy’s, reminiscing how i had cases pending
rihanna want a million for that p*ssy, i’ma spend it
don’t got a million dawg, i’m straight up cappin’
either we boxing or we shooting, ’cause it’s straight up action
get a job or distribute, wrap that sh*t in plastic
my mama and daddy was just f*ckin, i’ma straight up b*st*rd
[chorus]
yeah, yeah, hit it from the back, put that ass in air*air
used to get that pack and hide it in my granny stairwell
she respect my hustle cause she grew up on welfare
told me if i get caught, i better never tell*tell
i am yo pusha man, god blessed me, in love with my tecky
don’t call me by my government, b*tch, you ain’t special
i feel bad for all the b*tches that done left me
[verse 2]
my daddy smoked crack my whole life and he still cluckin’
be at the store beggin for money, but i still love ’em
b*tch got indicted for that swipe and she still punching
i don’t give a f*ck if she got herpes, b*tch, i’m still f*ckin’
i’m a trip, i’m always taking a risk
i call my b*tch ella mai, she always trippin’ and sh*t
sell a n*gga a ’35, i’ma take me a zip
i got a white b*tch who top me after taking a sh*t
born with hustle i was brought up in the slums
you can hustle anything, selling bubble to some gum
sold my old uncle packs, b*tch, i’m gettin’ it how it come
you gon’ die a memory, you go outside without that gun
my n*gga grew 1000 pounds, i call ’em hydropilot
bad b*tch, her p*ssy open like a movie drive*in
i don’t sell drugs no more, i just write about it
these n*ggas stealing sauce, b*tch, i’m big thousand island
zeke and nae nae made me but bobo f*ckin’ raised me
and i stopped selling dope, my mama still don’t appreciate me
i dm’d biggs burke like, “n*gga, put the bank on me”
shooting celo i’m the mothaf*ckin’ bank, homie
thought i was a charlotte n*gga, i’m goin blank on ’em
and i don’t want the p*ssy if it don’t got a tw*ng on it
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