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for the fame - phat geez lyrics

[intro: phat geez]
woah, woah, woah, woah, x3
oh sh-t, you be fronting with them b-tches huh?
you that lame -ss n-gga that was commenting on my pics huh? (oh that was your lame -ss?) you thought you was the sh-t huh?
gonna cop that old -ss outtie n-gga we pushin that s7 huh

[verse 1: phat geez]
codeine sippin me and my n-ggas we winning
you ain’t hear sh-t yet ,my n-gga this the beginning
i’m flooded with women, one h-ll of a gentleman
look at my pockets they flooded with benjamins
i don’t talk to no middle men
my n-ggas flood the block so it’s coming in
my youngins hug the block puttin’ doubles in
i got a couple hittas that ain’t doin’ no rumbling
throw 30 out that ladder watch his body start crumbling
me and my n-ggas want all the money, f-ck all the fame
you rappers some rookies, my n-ggas ballin’ hall of fame
this for the times we was busting jugs in the rain
and all my real trappers yeah i know yall feel the pain

[hook: phat geez]
hold up
you that n-gga that was snitching huh?
you that n-gga on the gram liking pictures huh?
and i told you that i hit it huh, you gon’ go back and you told her that i hit it huh

[chorus: phat geez]
my n-ggas they ’bout it, gotta problem, we gon’ ride out
my n-gga we slidin’, glock 40 start the choppin’
somebody they dyin’, you n-ggas acting like yall trappin’
them n-ggas be lyin’, and you ain’t never in ya hood
them n-ggas be hidin’
the block poppin’ neighbors watchin’ they callin the cops x4

[verse 2: db capo]
i caught everything but charli to sundy carter
they was old and i was young so now i f-ck they daughter
at the same d-mn time just so i go harder
have em’ both callin’ me daddy like i’m they father
known to get plenty money, guess that’s why them chicks chasin’
since a kid been ballin’ like the boy jason
everybody claim the hittas but them boys fakin’
only throws caps in the air like graduation
i’m really living good, yall use good imagination
don’t like me cause i’m c-cky, that’s intimidation
ya queen ride me like a bronco understatement
afterwards i let my man in we call her peyton
work we take it the long way, no catta, whipping the white ’til the pan cake, no batter
f-ck me just to make you mad she so scattered
f-ck me just to have rich s-x i’m so flattered
fast money, fast cars, and fast b-tches
raf simmons, louboutins, on me the blood drippin’
never catch me in the hood slippin’ like transmission
drum hold 20 and 20 like good vision, we them foreign boys
man them whips be on some other sh-t, and we getting dumb fried
higher than a mother, sh-t
everywhere we go strapped, glizzy got the rubber grip
disrespect the team that’ll get ya baby brother hit

[chorus]

- phat geez lyrics

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