Numbers

Yeah
Thugger Thugger
Got my broadie London in this mothafucker man
I’m tellin' ya this beat hard as… this one hard as fuck, listen bro
I go up up up and away
And I got old hundreds, they wrinkled like a Shar Pei
Plus I’m the realest nigga inside the A
And them boys in Atlanta, they don’t play, yeah
And them boys from Atlanta tote them K’s, yeah
And them boys from Atlanta got bananas for these monkeys, nigga
I got plenty ammo for your bumblin' nigga
Ammo for these pussy mothafuckas
Run up, I swear to God I want tears from your mother
Fuck nigga tripping, I’ll get prison and fuck your father up
I’ma tell 'em one time, ain’t going farther
I’m doing numbers
I got bands in the bando and I’m beating David Banner
And I’m smoking on cabana, leanin', movin' slow as grandma
Motor runnin', spent them commas, now it’s thunder
Count a hundred, want a hundred more, that’s hunger
Yeah baby, Thugger Thugger hungry, yes I’m hungry
Young Thugger got the munchies
All my diamonds come in yellow like a Funyun
Yeah all my gold made 'em sick and they can vomit
Yeah-yeah… pussy nigga know they can vomit
I’m growing green, me and Chi-Chi, no pet
I’m chasing dreams, free Meek Milly
And them boys in Atlanta, they don’t play, yeah
And them boys from Atlanta tote them K’s, yeah
And them boys from Atlanta got bananas for these monkeys, nigga
I got plenty ammo for your bumblin' nigga
Ammo for these pussy mothafuckas
Run up, I swear to God I want tears from your mother
Fuck nigga tripping, I’ll get prison and fuck your father up
I’ma tell 'em one time, ain’t going farther
I’m doing numbers
I’ma tell 'em one time
I can read your mind
Pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, then start ridin'
Brand new 24's, bitch on climb
You’s a busta, mothafucka rhymes
No sticky fingers, no porcupine
Genius I’ll chase the day
Wait, let me pick up his remains
Hey, let them gators get their prey
Hold up, hold up, wait
And them boys in Atlanta, they don’t play, yeah
And them boys from Atlanta tote them K’s, yeah
And them boys from Atlanta got bananas for these monkeys, nigga
I got plenty ammo for your bumblin' nigga
Ammo for these pussy mothafuckas
Run up, I swear to God I want tears from your mother
Fuck nigga tripping, I’ll get prison and fuck your father up
I’ma tell 'em one time, ain’t going farther
I’m doing numbers