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that one - toohda band$ lyrics

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[intro]
h*llo
what are you doing?
i’m in the studio
i’m finna make— i’m finna make this song real quick, i’ma call you right back
alright

[chorus]
hmm, this sound like that one
ain’t got exotic in your ‘wood, you better not spark it up
threw two hundred in the club, they fightin’ over crumbs
that’s how you know these b*tches broke, they trippin’ over ones

[verse 1]
it’s crazy how i’m gettin’ paid, i do this sh*t for fun
how the f*ck you in the street and you ain’t got no gun?
brodie ridin’ foreign with the strap and he still on the run
baby gave me face in out of state, she really going dumb
carti’ got them diamonds in the face, my wrist going numb
how the f*ck she never got no money? she a freaky bum
think we in a band, we got a pole, i bet he got a drum
leanin’ up in nieman’s, shoe shoppin’, i can’t pick which one
you better not touch my coffee cup or i’ma f*ck you up
we got choppers for them n*ggas that be buff as f*ck
thought he was a k!ller ’til we smoked him, now he in a blunt
rollin’ dead n*ggas in this ‘wood, this ain’t no f*ckin’ runtz
[chorus]
hmm, this sound like that one
ain’t got exotic in your ‘wood, you better not spark it up
threw two hundred in the club, they fightin’ over crumbs
that’s how you know these b*tches broke, they trippin’ over ones
hmm, this sound like that one
ain’t got exotic in your ‘wood, you better not spark it up
threw two hundred in the club, they fightin’ over crumbs
that’s how you know these b*tches broke, they trippin’ over ones

[verse 2]
you looking for me, i’m on hayes, meet me in the front
i can’t wait to see that n*gga, put him in the blunt
n*ggas rockin’ petty*ass bracelets, this a forty*one
me and poodah smoked a half a p, we burnt like twenty blunts
you ain’t got no f*ckin’ pape’, you still roll swisher blunts
i just poured a big six, it really f*cked me up
met a thick b*tch in the club, i made her suck me up
phil just swooped me in g*wagen, not no rental truck
that chopper came with .223s, gon’ lift a hemi up
n*gga, you ain’t talking ’bout no pape’, can’t even hit me up
me and skinny jewelry put together costs one*fifty plus
man, these n*ggas still hatin’, get your chicken up

[chorus]
hmm, this sound like that one
ain’t got exotic in your ‘wood, you better not spark it up
threw two hundred in the club, they fightin’ over crumbs
that’s how you know these b*tches broke, they trippin’ over ones
hmm, this sound like that one
ain’t got exotic in your ‘wood, you better not spark it up
threw two hundred in the club, they fightin’ over crumbs
that’s how you know these b*tches broke, they trippin’ over ones

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