Stress

Lyrics

[Intro: Rim da Villin] (Rim) Peace to the god Spesh You already know, my nigga (R.I.P.) [Verse 1: Rim da Villin] Uh, [?] a lot, no hoops we bounce rock I ain't talking 'bout a speaker that bust, the loud pop Take shorty cheeks to Thailand, she bang cock [?] reefer, fly features, the ball court, uh Shots come in [?] with heart, don't get booked It's the plan to eat, ours to cook, and play good looks Since a young'in on the steps or live niggas that rep They didn't have to pass the torch, I stole it and never slept Let my [?] taste that If her eyes pop at your mini rock I take that Scared money don't make noise like Illinois The Chiraqs, don't get lined up like a round bat, uh The stove fog got the lighter to a mayo jar The boulevard cooking, I'm hitting [?] My people shooting with a nine to five I know traffic cops that'll tow your car while you're still inside The best of me will short the cheese You'll be leaking from your head like an STD Yeah, these niggas giving pounds with they heads down [?] with my backpack, I don't spray ground From the waist up I just play [?], swing on 'em and slide off with With metal in my hand I'm a cyborg, uh [?] cake flip And yeah, the stick shift, the grip even thicker than Bisquick, uh A German ruger with [?] If you survive you'll ride in a wheelchair with a dented head [Chorus: Rim da Villin] Weigh, bag, sell, count Weigh, bag, sell, count Weigh, bag, sell, count Weigh, bag, sell, count Weigh, bag, sell, count Weigh, bag, sell, count Weigh, bag, sell, count Weigh, bag, sell, count Weigh, bag, sell, count Weigh, bag, sell, count [Verse 2: Hus Kingpin] Suede envelope, I got beige coke, I'm Malcolm X GA6, CA clip niggas My bitch lick triggers, kissing a killer, Beverly [?] [?] fuck with us The same nigga that gave you the plug With the Christmas doors, smuggle the work through like it's porcelain Want war then let it dissolve, separate or dry it out Wrap it all up and let the talk begin Y'all niggas [?] war we're in According to them, I'll beat you with accordions Huh, your dead body crowd surf the audience Your baby mama, she's a [?] slut, huh Wherever the wind blow she roll [?] Ten toes, she push her pussy for escrow Huh, I push a Lexus slow Circle the block, she bring back my doe I bring the blow so she know where to go Yo, baby girl, it's time to take this show on the road It's Suavo, you know me for the coke [?] [?] flow, the dime-faced hoes You know the kid, I gave niggas a lane to go Winning shot, .38 snub nose [Chorus: Rim da Villin] Weigh, bag, sell, count Weigh, bag, sell, count Weigh, bag, sell, count Weigh, bag, sell, count Weigh, bag, sell, count Weigh, bag, sell, count Weigh, bag, sell, count Weigh, bag, sell, count