We Say

Lyrics

[Chorus: Z] I got zips I let go for two-hundred Some 'for a hand come talk to me Aye I blow sticks with my bitch we cruising We just trynna move funds throughout the week We say "break me off my cheddar please" And catch the MAC no D.R.E I roll with my beretta Z Just trynna stack that's B.I.G [Verse 1: Z] Look, my fam Go dumb Bout the funds, no bums Me and my bitch make runs So let me come, all huns She hold the sack I hold the gun I pull it back, we on the run I'm trynna stack it 'til it's done We get to acting with the plug Fact I'm probably jacking Dickey's Sagging with a cuff That one Piraña with his dragon so we catch him when he bust I like sign around the package so thе llama stay on tough And I ain't gangsta, but I'll manage if the drama say what's up Buckets on low-kеy Slumping at a slow speed Head tilted like a nose-bleed Probably puffing on a blunt Running with some OGs Ten toes that dough speaks Serve 'em then I'm skirting up out the parking lot, we gone Let me fade you while I pray for my pacers, I'm talking rocks Stacked like Legos, better daygo My case open, but that's on God From able I've connected a cable I'm blowing bomb And I can noodle off the top for the state well you know the song Come on [Chorus: Z] I got zips I let go for two-hundred Some 'for a hand come talk to me Aye I blow sticks with my bitch we cruising We just trynna move funds throughout the week We say "break me off my cheddar please" And catch the MAC no D.R.E I roll with my beretta Z Just trynna stack that's B.I.G [Verse 2: Twisted Insane] Blood Roll deep OE OGs know me Z just hit me with a dope beat I'mma kick this shit off like a goalie Stomping with the Chucks on feet Finna walk up in the mo-mo Niggas don't know That I met your brother, than I'd rather be up on a solo shit Drink rum, have fun Brainsicks, pack rum Nigga ain't nobody act dumb Homie we are busting with the gat gun Somebody tell me when this rap done Hit the weed, it's time to roll up Only fucking with the Z blunts I was in the front and doing donuts Watch out when you in the West Coast Everybody got the teflon No restaurant Fuck a sweater Make decisions better if you got a vest on No-one's getting Hang heat out the 4-door The bros roll down the avenue when I add two to your polo Always repping San Diego Added to I'm on with Bicardi is hella with sour cream Baking back on my own shit Mood, uhm Mood you Fuck peace You better be ready for hell come If a nigga talking 'bout fuck me Hahaha [Chorus: Z] Zips I let go for two-hundred Some 'for a hand come talk to me Aye I blow sticks with my bitch we cruising We just trynna move funds throughout the week We say "break me off my cheddar please" And catch the MAC no D.R.E I roll with my beretta Z Just trynna stack that's B.I.G