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masterminds - cashclick boog lyrics

[intro]
(fresco, that’s cold)
(k$harebeats)

[verse 1: cashcl!ck boog]
drunk a six ounce of wock’, my whole pop polluted
tell the feds free gunna man, they tryna stop the movement
my b*tch into doin’ fraud and prostitution
hop out in a tailormade suit like the mobsters do it
used to watch paid n full, that was my influence
what’s the point of havin’ soldiers ’round and don’t know how to use ’em?
b*tch, you pull that strap out, best know how to use it
gucci scarf wrapped around my head, but i’m not a mus—
(a what?), i mean i’m not a muslim
just sold a hundred ‘bows of loads, i do not be woofin’
i can berak down the ar and not be lookin’
when i pop them pink percs, my eyes get crooked
me and los found the secret sauce, we masterminds
rio’s tryna buy all the drink, i gotta stash some lines
pull through the hood, jump out and dap my slimes
i be feelin’ like we all we got half the time
ask somebody else to hit they weed, i ain’t passin’ mine
pour a deuce in the peach crush, i never had this kind
seen an opp with his kids, he get a pass this time
then seen him by hisself, that’s his ass this time
[verse 2: rio da yung og]
dog thought he was gettin’ off, i had a mag this time
was ridin’ with a brick and a draco, but the strap was mine
last time i seen boogs, we drunk red, i got act’ this time
cook my dope in expensive water, it was alkaline
just know a n*gga disrespect me and a glock gettin’ upped
the apple don’t fall far from the tree, my pops’ll bust
you can leave gas at the gas station, but the pop’s a must
sorry if i had an attitude, i was wocky’d up
bro, please don’t get your f*ckin’ head bust with that c*cky stuff
i need a cleanup on aisle five, she just mopped me up
sh*t i don’t want her p*ssy, the top enough
before i bought my son an outfit, i was dressin’ choppers up
i got seven ice trays on my neck, but i’m hot as f*ck
if you ain’t sellin’ dope, you can’t stand on the block with us
last n*gga disrespected me, somebody popped him up
i don’t know who did that sh*t, i’m in the o countin’ guala up
every thirty days, i put a hundred thousand up
and i’ll sell you some adlibs for three thousand bucks
listen, bae, i ain’t tryna f*ck with your childish b*tt
caught them n*ggas sittin’ on the strip and shot mcdonald’s up

- cashclick boog lyrics

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