FOD Cypher

Lyrics

[Intro: Killa Fonte] Yeah Niggas ain't havin' no motion (Blame it on Monstah) What I say? Yeah [Verse 1: Killa Fonte] All this motion got these niggas sick and I could see it in 'em Fuck my bitches good, but they be mad when I don't leave it in 'em Brodie got the strap, I know I'm good, that's why I leave it with him Talkin' 'bout he the truth, shit, I should slap you for believin' in him Shoutout Money Hell, whenever I needed him, he came through Some people say he changed, but, shit, to me, he still the same dude All this water drippin' off my Rollie and my chain too And if you wanna book me, you gon' havе to pay for Bang too These niggas ain't got no motion, nigga, this that old Oakland They won't lеt me in 'cause they know I'm gon' leave that door open Everybody with me 'bout that bread but we don't do no loafin' Big bullets rippin' shirts, it's like Hulk Hogan Killa Fonte, ayy, but you could call me Frank And if your bitch came back then I'm that nigga you should thank 'Cause if I wouldn't have turned her down, she'd still be in my bed, yeah Wide awake, just goin' crazy with the head See, I'm an 85th nigga, bitch, we poppin' this way If she don't do it for me, then she gon' pop it for Dre I'm from Oakland, California, nigga, not from the Bay Don't come around here with them games 'cause we is not finna play I know she chargin' for that pussy but I'm not finna pay And why you puttin' yourself in funk? You know you not finna spray We handle business, ain't no other niggas racky this way It ain't no later, nigga, we gon' get it poppin' today Yeah, FOD, I can't let a nigga come and step on me Let him come around here full of shit, you gon' get left on E I remember hittin' the gas station with my last ten Like let me get some mamas and two Phillies and the rest on 3 How you think you finna be the best if you ain't tryin'? Me and my niggas goin' up, we livin' life like ain't no dyin' The brokest niggas always hit the mall, but they ain't buyin' And if they grab one of my niggas, bitch, we slidin', ain't no cryin', nigga [Interlude: Rosco Feddi] Rosco Feddi, nigga Uh [Verse 2: Rosco Feddi] Two FOD chains mean we certified This that kill zone mixed with the murder ties Loot tinted, duffel bag with the loot in it I stuff chicken, up blicky, leave a nigga roof missin' Yeah, the top back, you know the twenties where it's at Cop 'em up three times, two whites and a black You want smoke, put 'em in a 'Wood, you niggas can't rap Roll with us or get rolled over Pussy nigga, fuck your internet thug life, bitch nigga, it's dub life Life and direct, nigga, life from the set, nigga Drunk driver, come through slidin', I'll wreck niggas Finger fuck the trigger on pussies, I'll wet niggas Strap ain't for play, oh, you ain't hear what I say? I said this strap ain't foreplay, bitch nigga, I'm war ready You niggas gon' war with me, duck tape your whore with me Come through with the mop sticks, we gon' mop the floor with you It's big rocks in this watch, bustdown 41 Came to fight with a 9, but you know the 40 won It wasn't a heisty movement when you seen a 40 go and dump Two-Piece Tuesday, knew the biscuit came with the drum Five fingers up, word to Buck, bangin' where I'm from Two five hundred, nigga, East 25th Street Hidin to the dead end, that twenty-fifth century Roscoe, I got flow, in the trap I got dough Get it without the internet promotion, yeah, I got loc' You niggas is bitches, start snitchin' and turn five-O Undisputed on this mic', I ain't got a rival Funk or Die Entertainment, FOD the label, nigga Without an invitation, you can't sit at this table, nigga This a potluck, gotta bring somethin' to the table They be here for the moment, they ain't here for the movement Niggas ain't got motion, that mean they ain't movin' It's fact drunk [Interlude: JUST BANG] It's the biggest 8, man Mr. Big Bed, Mr. Similac His Motherfuckin' Self, nigga JUST BANG Look [Verse 3: JUST BANG] Hey, lately, I've been really peepin' ho shit Pussy niggas mad 'cause they ain't really havin' motion I do magic with this stick, hocus pocus Fuck the back and forth, bitch, you got an issue, pull up on me Killin' all the killers and robbin' all the robbers Bitches gettin' tricky, better keep that stick beside ya Same nigga used to cut my hair, I'm tryna line him Same niggas say they from the hood, I'm tryna find 'em Fuck 40, bitch, we know you really boastin' I can tell you niggas broke just from the pictures y'all be postin' Brodie said he on me, when he seen me, he was jokin' Same niggas that your mama cryin' over, bitch, we smokin' Niggas really caps, so watch how y'all be roastin' All these chains up on my neck sound like some Chuck-E-Cheese tokens Love when suckers die, bitch, I laugh and get to toastin' In the bank, I told the nigga baby mama we was cousins Drop Skeezy, drop ten and then a hundred more DoorDash, I'll bring this beef to your grandmama door Tryna stay alive 'cause I know that's just what my mama want Hella mad I bought the Dior and didn't even buy the coat Four chains, two watches at least a hundred thou' If you don't got like twenty G's, bitch, you can't come around, it's BANG, nigga (BANG) [Interlude: Philthy Rich] Yeah, it's Philthy, nigga Uh-huh? Look [Verse 4: Philthy Rich] Million-dollar nigga, got it out the mud Really started from the bottom and then I ran it up Was goin' rock for rock on top of the block Now it's billboards with my name on top of the block I really came from nothin', lot of pain and suffering Independent, but look like a major budget I did the Lambo', the Bentley, Aston and Cullinan Break a bitch for a check, I don't do no cuddlin' Really pushin' P, I was really in the streets Nah, he ain't havin' motion if he ain't FOD Big 59, the numbers don't lie I done counted a hundred thousand over a hundred times And tell 'em add me up and do the math on me We done bust down Cartis and bust down Rollies The richest label out in East Oakland That's why you broke niggas mad, 'cause you ain't havin' motion Philthy [Interlude: Toohda Band\$] HME, FOD shit, nigga, you know what the fuck goin' on, it's Toohda Yeah [Verse 5: Toohda Band\$] I be in my bag and not my feelings, fuck what niggas say If you ain't seen a hundred, you wastin' time 'cause you just in the way Send them bags and get 'em gone, ran it up at Granny home I fucked her off a Perc', she dickmotized, now she can't leave me 'lone Trap ain't never dead, unc' still ran it up off blowing stones FOD my second home, they slidin' if I'm right or wrong They love me on the 6, you play it crazy, they gon' get you gone Only time these niggas doin' somethin' gangster is when they on a song Yeah, I got some money, I'm still slidin' if we get the lo' All the glizzies fully, hit they block and make 'em hit the floor All that talkin' crazy, I'm gon' show you how this shit gon' go Hidin', we gon' get your mans, jumpin' out a stove for bands My niggas call me Toodha, I get money, tell 'em add the bands Say it's up, your ass is dead, .223s gon' hit your head They asked me where I'ma be in five years, I told 'em rich or fed Still fuck the law until my pops get let up out the feds [Interlude: Skinny T] Ayy [Verse 6: Skinny T] I'm on a flight, she wanna fight, got two different vibes I just sipped a line and popped a Perc', got two different highs She could look at me and tell that a nigga chargin' high I just got a rental and I drove 'cause they ain't wanna buy it My Asian bitch, she make a couple racks every time she outside The last bitch, she probably chose up, we was barely gettin' by That bitch traffic so small, used to front my high Callin' me about some clothes, nigga, tell that bitch he could die It's too much motion when we in the city My new bitch black and she skinny, she got bigger titties I'm in New York with all my shit on, they think I signed with 50 I just pull up and collect traps, I ain't got time for bitches I just pull up and collect beats, only got time for business In the hood my whole life, nigga, ridin' by witness I just sat her down right now, nigga, right by Wendy's If them niggas wasn't hatin' on me, I'd probably sign the trenches [Interlude: Lil Steve] Lil Steve in this motherfucker RIP Ree [Verse 7: Lil Steve] I beat the odds, a lot of real niggas ain't seen twenty-one Glock 21 with air holes, this the bigger one I go chase the check, pockets on full before the dinner done Broke as hell, plottin' on some money, had to give me some Two chains mean you certified, who ain't got no motion? Bitch, we rollin', niggas tellin' lies Unc' still in the trap, he verified, still sellin' pies We got fully Glocks, sound like chops, got niggas pickin' sides Yeah When it get greazy, who gon' really ride? I just poured a deuce up in the booth hopin' they catch a nod Niggas fallin' off, coppin' reg, tryna stretch a line He gon' sell his pall when he go broke, I'm not sellin' mine A real trap nigga, break a bag down and get a sack, nigga Shoutout K5, he like to rap and he wrap niggas I can't sell a strap if I go broke, we finna grab niggas He tried to slide then he crashed the lo', ask the last nigga [Interlude: Lul Boog] Lul Boog, five nine hundred, nigga Yeah Ayy [Verse 8: Lul Boog] WWE, off the toprope, and that's a twisted fate I gave the ball to Tray, he walked down, he gon' leave him where he stay Drac' is all wood, I ain't rockin' with no Baby A She wanna bleed her feet with state to state, Baby A spread like mase From where I'm from, we made it snow, I fuck around, start fuckin' with these 'bows Attachments on the gleeks, we walk down and we stalkin' lo's Had to cape his ass, put three on his back and call him Derrick Rose He got a cold, Drac' jump off my hand and watch it wipe his nose I done upped the score, now we ridin' four deep, we tryna take a soul No cap now, I'm ridin' with this blower, what's my pay [?]? Drop the ski, grab dog in public, Rey Mysterio A lean with her, rock with it, drop shots, give him some more [Interlude: Lil Tray] Ayy, FOD, Cash Money, ayy 6 Deuce You niggas know what time it is [Verse 9: Lil Tray] Doggy ain't gon' blow the strap so why he totin' it? I ain't take your bitch to fall in love, just wanna ho the bitch I got diamond chains around my neck and plus the Rollie hittin' Boy, I know your ass ain't cash out, you got a phony kit I be mainly fuckin' thick hoes, can't fuck a bony bitch Niggas see I'm gettin' money on 'em, so they want me hit Catch me for nothin', I was broke and they ain't throw me shit I just threw a grip onto the Glock because the 40 kick Why you still hangin' with that nigga and you know he snitched? Me and Boog found a play, so you know we blitzed I realized if niggas hatin', they can't show me shit She can see me once, can't see me twice if she don't throw me shit Every day I wake up, I'm tryna make a killing I'ma buy the whole hood chops when I make a million I'm rollin' Backwoods up, I'm finna touch the ceiling I might put an opp into this 'Wood dependin' on how I'm feelin' [Interlude: J-Money] Lil' 59, lil' J Money, you feel me? Look Look [Verse 10: J-Money] Why y'all mad? Y'all don't got motion My ice feelin' wet, I think it's finna turn to an ocean He wanna fight, slam me down like I'm Randy Orton Don't call me if it's not about a bag 'cause it's not important They say I be rappin' too fast, I'ma keep flowing I've been tryna make me a bag, I'ma keep goin' They say you can make it in the game, I'm tryna go farther FOD, scorin' in all type of ways like the Globetrotters If he speakin' ma 4D, you better speak some facts FOD, we gettin' state to state, we goin' back to back My chains cost more than your 2019 Cadillac Speak on the crew one more time then we can handle that You don't want no problems, 'cause it could get ugly Gotta start a GoFundMe for them boys, they don't got no money It was dark outside, wear my chains just to make it sunny Feel like Steven Skinny T, you better ask about me Ha, I don't think you get it Bro stay in 1-Up Creek, he not in the trenches At night really in the field, y'all be ridin' benches They say I cuss in my raps, I guess he don't listen Lil 59 but I'm J-Money We some hood stars, lil' bro, R.I.P Smokey They see FOD, they change up, don't be actin' funny FOD to the end, you is not my homie [Interlude: Dolla Dame] It's Dolla, nigga You know what the fuck goin' on, nigga Look [Verse 11: Dolla Dame] Chops out, Glocks out, we'd bring the mops out Leave a nigga bleedin' in the streets 'cause he ain't watch out This a cool hundred on my body with the watch out I was on the grind overtime and they ain't clock out Thugging you are not 'bout, chase shit when I hop out Fuck a sneak diss, fuck a song, nigga, pop out We the only niggas out here ballin' like a lock-out You ain't had no money for your room and you got locked out Tell me was you high, cuz? That's how niggas die, cuz I know you for real, you ain't never hurt no fly, cuz You are not convincin' me, really, you a bitch to me Four gold chains around my neck, I feel like Mr. T Broke-ass nigga, get some money 'fore you mention me I would've snatched a chain off your neck but you ain't got a piece All my niggas got a piece, break it down and then we eat I'm a wild pit without the chain, I ain't got a leash Name a nigga hot as me, I want an apology Rappin' don't work then I go back to doin' robberies I just want a lot of cheese, foreign want a lot of keys I just flew my bitch out the country just to feel the breeze I do this shit with ease, a lot of y'all I don't believe I can never stress about no bitch 'cause I be smokin' weed Label gave me a hundred G's, I'm still eatin' Mickey-D's Niggas out here begging for a deal like Philthy, sign me please [Interlude: Mac God DBO] The smart way [Verse 12: Mac God DBO] I said the scandalous raised me, the murder gang paid me And all this motion, nigga, got these bitches goin' crazy And most of y'all would pull up on the porch when I was blazin' And I'm really from the trenches like if I was [?] Yeah, that probably went over your head I really shake the feds, I be stackin' my bread I'ma get it by all means but I ain't crossin' my friends And free all the real coaches that's stuck in the pen' I can't fuck with no fufi, nigga, no goofy nigga Fuck around and get you smacked, [?] all in your kufi, nigga That's your baby mama? Yeah, man, she sellin' coochie, nigga And I ain't never catered to that bitch, I ain't you Boosie niggas She like molly all in her drank and I didn't know it Lil' bad, lil' sexy scandalous bitch and she from Oakland Still playin' Safeway, punchin' in and it's goin' And I checkin' all profits, man, that's just as good as hoein' Just a no-name thing, niggas know how we rock Free Visa, nigga back to the motherfuckin' mob Free Bro, nigga, back to the motherfuckin' mob And Blood from green, nigga still on speed dial [?] what I'm smokin' on the daily Tell a broke bitch, yeah, ho, you gotta pay me Yeah, I go crazy, I don't like no bitch that's lazy FOD, yeah, that's the label that pays me