Like Father Like Son

Lyrics

[Verse 1: CML] Let Hank talk his shit Million dollar nigga I'm as good as it gets I rock a lot of ice because I'm hotter than some grits Looking for that motherfucking hoe that you was with You pouring up a deuce, blood I'm pouring up a brick Wide-body Benz with the AMG kit I blew $30,000 now I'm looking for a lick I'm up and down the blade nigga looking for a bitch Police at my daddy house, we did another skit Go and pick your nigga up, we did another hit Flexing on the suckers that can't fuck with me a bit I knock the baddest bitches because they know a nigga lit I'm looking like some money, richest nigga in my city Heavyweight Hank, ain't nobody fucking with me I'm worth a couple million, heard some niggas out to get me I pulled up in they hood with some killers riding with me I got too many hoes, I can't fuck with you I'm busy I'm in the bitch ear, when I'm done she gon' be dizzy My last bitch left but I know that hoe miss me I got a full clip for anybody that's against me Applying all this pressure, I've been eating for a minute It's beef in the streets, I ain't out bitch I'm in it My foot up on they neck, man I swear these boys timid You love being broke, but I swear I don't get it Nigga say he robbed me, I know a nigga didn't A nigga rob me, his whole family gon' be missing Flexing with a $100,000 had to say I'm tripping Get that boy a thong, 'cause that nigga stay bitching She chose with a heavyweight, she made that decision She got up on her knees and gave me head on collision All I see is money, ain't no fucking up my vision I been had a blue check, nigga did I mention? He stared at my chain man, I feel a little tension He tried to snatch this, give that boy the whole extension Put him on the news since he begging for attention I got a lot to lose, but my trigger finger itching I don't like to talk, I think everybody snitching I'm fucking on my hoe, on the floor, in my kitchen I love going shopping nigga, everyday is Christmas I got another hoe, she in Detroit like the Pistons [Verse 2: Prince Quell] I got a lot of dough, my pockets flipped I know they pissed This nigga loving on that hoe, we been ran through that bitch Bro shooting trying to score, like he playing for the Knicks She know that a nigga balling, 'cause I always stay dripped I ain't taking no losses, all a nigga do is win And they know I'm pimping hard, all that nigga do is simp I let her blow me like a vent We in the foreign behind tints I'm just flexing in my bag, nigga let me talk my shit I been counting up these bands, got my hands cropping up She gon' blow me, then my mans, all these bitches is some sluts Every time I walk in, them groupies start acting up You niggas wouldn't bust a grape or sting a bee y'all ain't tough I just counted 20 G's I had stashed in the tuck I could never love no hoe, just get the bag then I cut They say this piece shining on me, is it flashing or what? They praying on my downfall, I'm just hoping I stay up Them boys acting like they balling, but I been caught they bluff Like a Thanksgiving turkey, all my pockets stay stuffed We run them niggas out the city, man they ass ain't get up It's only bosses at this table nigga you can't hang with us I swear they undercover agents working with the police I'll have her down all night, youngster get no sleep I beat it like Mike, night night, go to sleep Got me feeling like Pac, it's all eyes on me