bankhead
Westside nigga
Hey
I got my .44 and my dro
And my Chevy on twenty-fours, and my ho
Now where am I 'posed to go?
See me riding in a Chevy, .44 on the seat
With a quarter O of blow, gettin' loaded wit C
No tag, no license, trunk loaded with D
Riding Fulton Indy, where we normally be
They pull us over, you think I'm stopping, you must be fucking with me
If they don't want to die tonight, they best stop fucking with me
I'mma pull over in bowen home my cousin and B
And they gon' hide me in they home while they looking for me
Hey, we the neighborhood superstars
Couple Chevys, pulling hard
Thousand dollars worth of dimes in the trap with rockstars
We putting fear in cowards' hearts when they see us on the block
Swerving in the deuce and quarter, busting shots just because
The hell I care about getting caught, I'm making bail by twelve o'clock
Back in the spot with the same bomb-serving drops
I pull a ho in Bangkok, dropped her off at Tip's spot
I'm burning rubber, fuck the cops, another day on my block
I'm Cadillac daddy, pulled up on some hoes from old Natty
I said I'm Pimp Squad, ho, what's happening
Westside get them panties, snap
She asked me, can I do the Laffy Taffy?
I said I do to make the pussy happy
Let's get a room over on Virginia
Step inside a suite and then continue
You're in for a little fender bender
Baby, just remember, make it quick
These niggas kind of know me, I'm the shit
I'm in a bubble kush Chevy, well at least that's what it smells like
Hit the gas, blue fire blowing out the tailpipe
Tailpipe, that's all these hoes wanna lick for the night
I treat 'em like Tina, beat that pussy and you call me Ike
That's right, monster ride sitting on the twenty-eights
It sound like a stadium, you would've thought the Braves played
The engine running like Vick, with the Falcons on the hood
Mr., Mr. Westside, yeah you know they in my hood
Ain't no telling where I'm going, 'less I'm stepping out
Sippin on the high life, windows up, in the clouds
Open up the console, that's where I got my gun
Right next to that, get that bag and roll another one
I got the vitamins, make a freak fuck all night
Hoes know, killers on the Westside earn stripes
Make that money turn bright, just look at my piece and my grill
Swerving off Church Street, the pimp God gave me skills
I was born up in Bankhead, y'all remember me
Way back in '83, T.I. stayed up the street from me
Just cause I'm from Bankhead, niggas having beef with me
Half never seen a G in a cap in my Beamer V
Ten screens falling, my Chevy watching Lean On Me
Riding down Simpson, 'bout to waste my purple lean on me
Purple linen clean on me, the whole zone three on me
Waffle House Charger, yellow-black, I got a bee on me