Perfect Timing

Lyrics

[Intro] (Pablo, you so raw) Bitch (His name's Pablo) [Verse] Up the Glock, make you stop, what you 'bout to say? Red tips in my AR, I brought it out today Four of Wock' and two Perc' 30s, I can't concentrate I need to stop drinking lean, that's what the doctor say Hey, did the option change? Drunk a deuce of Tris raw, used the pop to chase PLR my bae, but I love when that chopper sing You cannot fuck her for free, we are not the same I think I fell in love with counting blue strips I swear the pussy let me right in, she had some loose lips I bust a nut, then order up some steak bites from Ruth's Chris You ain't drinking real lean, boy, that juice hit Re-rock the packs I bought online, they only two cents Rolex diamonds in lil' brodie watch, he got a blue wrist I shoved my dick down the bitch throat, she like, "Ooh, shit" I bet you can't make a hundred off of two flips I bet you I can make eight hundred less than thirty days All you gotta do is make ten thousand different thirty ways I'm burnt out, I started having sex at an early age She liked girls, I put that dick on her, made girly change Hey, now the bitch dick-notized You with them or you with us? Nigga, pick a side He took a bag and tried to pull off, got his engine fried Then I jump fresher than a bitch, I'm pigeon fly I don't really know dawg like that, he get the Fisher-Price Cali plug trying to meet up, I gotta pick a flight Fuck a razor blade, I cut the dope with a kitchen knife I'm doing good, but you'll never know how I feel inside Hey, I was fucked up I finally found something I'm good at to get my bucks up P told me to rap and every since, I've been up up I started with a zip and now them loads come in dump trucks My nigga D Smart be on tip and he'll whack you for me I remember hoes use to laugh when I was lacking money Now I hit the road and blow a bag on some Act' or something Them same hoes trying to throw the pussy, but I'm acting funny Nah, you can't get shit from me, bitch, I'm the catch I talk spicy, when it comes to bars, I feel like I'm the best Stuffed a lot of blues in a Trojan, made the condom stretch My bitch like to fuck me off Percs, we had the wildest sex In a different bag, when I speak, I know the hood love it Weed out the real from the fake, I got a good judgement Running out, I'm finna press the doc', "When the juice come in?" I think I fucked up my dick, it hurt when the tool busting I don't know what I be thinking, need a brain check I had a date, but money on the floor, I took a rain check I sold him cut, he thought the shit was real with his lame ass Foot on the pedal, but I cannot stop, I need brake pads Benji hit my line last week, he told me, "Keep pressing" Let me call D Money for some weed, that nigga keep pressure He didn't answer, I could call Eight, but it's gon' be extra Eight hour shift in that booth, fucked up my sleep schedule Ayy, I really be up for days A nigga raise his voice up at me, I up the K This bitch pulled up bleeding out her pussy, I fucked her face Finna quit the lean, I payed four hundred for a one of drank I'm fiended out, but it's okay, I can afford to do it Let me see the pop, I never measure when I pour into it Make your bitch hit a high note, we make gorgeous music Plug hit my line personally 'cause my order stupid [Outro] Yeah RMC shit, nigga These niggas can't fuck with me, man Whole lot of Ghetto Boy shit Free the whole ghetto