G Season (Feat. Meek Mill)
T.I.
Okay
Aye man
I'm sucka free, sucka back until all them suckas get
The fuck out my way man
You understand?
G season!
Told you motherfuckers once, prison ain't changed me
All it did was made a nigga crazy, deranged see?
Psycho, nuts so, what I give a fuck fo?
All I know now is to get out and go for the gusto
So, fuck niggas, fuck hoes
They said, she said, nigga and what, so?
Fuck what they say 'bout my cases, fuck what they say 'bout my lady
Fuck what they say we were doing on that day of visitation
All I care 'bout is my updater, the scripture of probation
How much dough I'm set to makin', where I'm gon go on vacation
Wait, damn
Okay, that's way too far ahead of me
So I'm just tryina take it day to day if they were never G
3 cop cars by the 3's
Bitches call me Papa John cuz I keep that nigga's cheese
Overseas in the sun, living for the fun
In Milan with some bad bitches, probly want a youngin
What will it done? All the mama done
Ride foreign, comes drawin, getting blown like a blunt
I'm the bomb, terrorist, hella rich, record shit
Nigga ask about me, homie I suggest you tell em this
I'm sucka duckin, I'm sucka free
You ain't a G? don't fuck with me
Them sucka niggas out of style, G season
Them sucka niggas out of style, G season
My best flow too cold and jet bring it out
But go to talkin crazy thugh, you get yourself singled out
Half a million bucks to pass the whole arena out
Being a sucka I don't need the first thing about
You get the scene, about to come in at your face
Like a volcano hell, lava running out your face
Hey, if your ass out of place
You done find the weathers they took away, I replaced
What can I say? Another D, another case
Another sentence completed, I'm confident and conceded
I'm sucka free, sucka duck and so tell them suckas to beat it
Don't fuck with me, buster trust me your future will be deleted
Such a G, ain't no touching me, luckily I defeated the all
But out my two alarm glory to go
And I ain't even Islamic, so sick whenever I bondage
Just throw me a mill or two and that ought to settle my stomach
Box of money he done it, call me Mr. HeRentIt
These niggas ain't really bout it,
They just be speaking ebonics
I'm nothing short of iconic
Promise you you don't want it
Strong as gin & tonic, my left you won't see it coming
My right should be running from it, I catch you with it – you buried
I'mma keep it 100, I better get you a gun
Word bond, real talk
Be my girdle by my lonely cuz these suckas will talk
I'm sucka duckin, I'm sucka free
You ain't a G? don't fuck with me
Them sucka niggas out of style, G season
Them sucka niggas out of style, G season
Pimp placed on my ass, the more I'm bitch I'm ballin
Killin all my haters, say yo momma pick it often
Hundred rack shorty, I just got ta pick a talker
Put my name on that flyer, watch the party get retarded
And I got crazy in that bitch, feel like baby in that bitch
Got your lady on my dick cuz I got like 80 on my wrist
KOD, I make it rain, I know they hate me in that bitch
Stop eatin, just throwin money like they played me for that shit, hold up
Caught it in the back, now I'm that nigga in the front
Shorty want the real and I'mma give er what she want
OG nigga, you can put it in the blunt
Fuckin all the baddest bitches, I'mma hit em from the front
Good to see their faces on it when a nigga lay it on em
Every time she had a dick I tell her go to making all that
Lord have mercy, these bitches thirsty
I'm the mercy, she kissin on me ushy, we in this bitch
I'm sucka duckin, I'm sucka free
That's your main bitch? She fuckin me
I don't fuck with niggas, I'm a fuckin G
This Meek Millie, C I fuckin P
I'm sucka duckin, I'm sucka free
You ain't a G? don't fuck with me
Them sucka niggas out of style, G season
Them sucka niggas out of style, G season
compositores: Carl E. McCormick, Clifford Joseph Jr. Harris, Kenneth Gamble, Leon A. Huff, Gene McFadden, John Whitehead, Robert Rihmeek Williams, Clifford Joseph Harris Jr., Paul Christopher Tisdale
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Aye man
I'm sucka free, sucka back until all them suckas get
The fuck out my way man
You understand?
G season!
Told you motherfuckers once, prison ain't changed me
All it did was made a nigga crazy, deranged see?
Psycho, nuts so, what I give a fuck fo?
All I know now is to get out and go for the gusto
So, fuck niggas, fuck hoes
They said, she said, nigga and what, so?
Fuck what they say 'bout my cases, fuck what they say 'bout my lady
Fuck what they say we were doing on that day of visitation
All I care 'bout is my updater, the scripture of probation
How much dough I'm set to makin', where I'm gon go on vacation
Wait, damn
Okay, that's way too far ahead of me
So I'm just tryina take it day to day if they were never G
3 cop cars by the 3's
Bitches call me Papa John cuz I keep that nigga's cheese
Overseas in the sun, living for the fun
In Milan with some bad bitches, probly want a youngin
What will it done? All the mama done
Ride foreign, comes drawin, getting blown like a blunt
I'm the bomb, terrorist, hella rich, record shit
Nigga ask about me, homie I suggest you tell em this
I'm sucka duckin, I'm sucka free
You ain't a G? don't fuck with me
Them sucka niggas out of style, G season
Them sucka niggas out of style, G season
My best flow too cold and jet bring it out
But go to talkin crazy thugh, you get yourself singled out
Half a million bucks to pass the whole arena out
Being a sucka I don't need the first thing about
You get the scene, about to come in at your face
Like a volcano hell, lava running out your face
Hey, if your ass out of place
You done find the weathers they took away, I replaced
What can I say? Another D, another case
Another sentence completed, I'm confident and conceded
I'm sucka free, sucka duck and so tell them suckas to beat it
Don't fuck with me, buster trust me your future will be deleted
Such a G, ain't no touching me, luckily I defeated the all
But out my two alarm glory to go
And I ain't even Islamic, so sick whenever I bondage
Just throw me a mill or two and that ought to settle my stomach
Box of money he done it, call me Mr. HeRentIt
These niggas ain't really bout it,
They just be speaking ebonics
I'm nothing short of iconic
Promise you you don't want it
Strong as gin & tonic, my left you won't see it coming
My right should be running from it, I catch you with it – you buried
I'mma keep it 100, I better get you a gun
Word bond, real talk
Be my girdle by my lonely cuz these suckas will talk
I'm sucka duckin, I'm sucka free
You ain't a G? don't fuck with me
Them sucka niggas out of style, G season
Them sucka niggas out of style, G season
Pimp placed on my ass, the more I'm bitch I'm ballin
Killin all my haters, say yo momma pick it often
Hundred rack shorty, I just got ta pick a talker
Put my name on that flyer, watch the party get retarded
And I got crazy in that bitch, feel like baby in that bitch
Got your lady on my dick cuz I got like 80 on my wrist
KOD, I make it rain, I know they hate me in that bitch
Stop eatin, just throwin money like they played me for that shit, hold up
Caught it in the back, now I'm that nigga in the front
Shorty want the real and I'mma give er what she want
OG nigga, you can put it in the blunt
Fuckin all the baddest bitches, I'mma hit em from the front
Good to see their faces on it when a nigga lay it on em
Every time she had a dick I tell her go to making all that
Lord have mercy, these bitches thirsty
I'm the mercy, she kissin on me ushy, we in this bitch
I'm sucka duckin, I'm sucka free
That's your main bitch? She fuckin me
I don't fuck with niggas, I'm a fuckin G
This Meek Millie, C I fuckin P
I'm sucka duckin, I'm sucka free
You ain't a G? don't fuck with me
Them sucka niggas out of style, G season
Them sucka niggas out of style, G season
compositores: Carl E. McCormick, Clifford Joseph Jr. Harris, Kenneth Gamble, Leon A. Huff, Gene McFadden, John Whitehead, Robert Rihmeek Williams, Clifford Joseph Harris Jr., Paul Christopher Tisdale
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