FatBoy Records - The Return Lyrics

Weird niggas be like Jones I wanna be you
So fly fresh stepping in some new shoes
Bread winner nigga making hella blues
All these hoes telling me I gotta choose
Quiet down bro let me play my kazoo
Bad bitch and she always tryna seduce
Got a new foreign whip with a moon roof
If I was a broke lame nigga I'd be mad to
Broke bitch ain't talking money watch me fade away
Green bucks making hella bread what a day
He thought he was in the clear bro I made him pay
Turn his ass into a highlight nigga replay
Hit him wit a laser beam nigga doomsday
Making hella bets bro I don't make parlays
Remember we used to always say maybe one day
Now we make it happen even on a Monday
New songs new hoes this the same shit
Drummer clip on it and it came with 2 sticks
Jones smooth bro man I'm so slick
Got fresh forces bro I don't wear Ricks
Gotta fresh ass fit nigga take pics
They said Jones bro how you get so rich
I said it don't matter bro don't even trip
New hellcat, now that's a fast whip
He can't hang around the gang he's a broke bum
He can go and stay with plankton they are both chums
Hopping out broad day with two drums
When we pressed him after that he ain't say nun
When getting sent out to the drill we get it done
They be tryna be like Big Jit but there's only one
Unless you GOD you can't faze me
We with p3, Now that's that elite 3
Ski mask on so they can't see me
Green Bucks yea we better than BBC
Diamonds on me I'm flooded its amazing,
Cant cry makin money I ain't faking
Passing time I'm so bored its driving me crazy
And I'm sipping on the wok it got me lazy
Taking off, hella hoes tryna f*ck now
Tryna show these broke niggas how to ball out
Only time I switch directions is when I slide south
Once I hit the field all it's been is A-Town
Come the wrong way against the gang you gon' get socked out
Uzi aiming at yo head you gon' get blowed down
F*ck wit Jones we gon' get up on yo ass
F*ck wit Jit and we gon' have to double back
It's that 1st place gang we don't do last
This toolie all up on my waist you know I blast that
Fast whips off the calle you know we gas that
209th block with the blower that's a nasty hit
She a freak in my corner that's a nasty bitch
Fatboy records be the team you know we getting rich
Fatboy records be the team pockets do the talkin'
Strollin' to the dough we don't do no side walkin'
P3, Jones n' Big Jit taking all the commas