The World Is Yours (Intro)

Lyrics

[Intro] (RJ Lamont got these motherfuckin' streets talkin') (Ooh, RJ) Yeah [Verse 1] Damn, Mark, where you've been? Shit, juggin' on that road My bitch claim I be embarrassing and doin' her so wrong (Damn) Why? 'Cause I fucked that nigga bitch and put it in a song Broke nigga shouldn't have been talkin' like I couldn't hit his ho (Broke nigga) Sorry, baby, I know I got loyal pussy still at home Let her hold my oven for me, she'll cook you niggas slow Gucci hoodie when it's cold, we'll put you niggas on Punchin' this, punchin' that, I'm like a bully in these stores You a rookie, I'm a pro, yeah, bitch, go get your manager (Fuck on) Say she wanna fuck me, hold up, let me check my calendar All these bitches y'all niggas think bad, to me, they regular She just want a real nigga with bands, and I'm not mad at her (Ayy) Sticked up like a janitor, lil' nigga, fuck you sayin'? Shit got real, huddle with my niggas like what's the plan? (Let's get it) Ayy, fuck them niggas, run up them bands When it's time, we gon' leave them niggas where the fuck they stayin' [Chorus] Ayy, run it up, nigga, we gon' get this shit We gon' split this shit, even if it's fifty cent You a silly bitch, why you tryna cuff knowin' brodie fucked? Thinkin' I ain't hip, but I'm gon' play my role, I know what's up (Ha) Cheat money, snuck the toolie in, fuck what crew he in Up that bitch on the first nigga think he Superman Ayy, slide for this 'fit, and I got pole on me Worry for a week, but it don't matter 'cause that roll on me (Ayy) [Verse 2] Good slide, told my bitch the shit, made my bitch the shit I wouldn't hit your bitch, she's too broke, this that expensive dick (Yeah) R.I.P. Jeff, ballin' Heaven roof, we gon' meet again Still rollin', got it out the mud like a guinea pig In the foreign with a lightskin and her conceited friend Same night, knock 'em both down, never speak again Pussy nigga hatin' on the gang, never seen a million Playin' roles, take his top off like we deal wigs Yeah, fuck every nigga we don't eat with (Fuck 'em) All these niggas fake, they all hate, they all sneak diss (Ayy) Pillow talk, talk down on they mans to a freak bitch (Lame) When I'm the nigga kept this shit a thousand on some G shit (Ayy) Merry Christmas, feelin' like it's Christmas 'cause that tree lit Mama mad I'm at the family function with that weed scent Plus the 40 pokin', she don't know this just for defense Team man put that bitch out in the cold, know she gon' be sick, ayy [Chorus] Ayy, run it up, nigga, we gon' get this shit We gon' split this shit, even if it's fifty cent You a silly bitch, why you tryna cuff knowin' brodie fucked? Thinkin' I ain't hip, but I'm gon' play my role, I know what's up (Ha) Cheat money, snuck the toolie in, fuck what crew he in Up that bitch on the first nigga think he Superman Ayy, slide for this 'fit, and I got pole on me (Slide) Worry for a week, but it don't matter 'cause that roll on me ('Cause that shit on me) [Outro] Woo (RJ Lamont)