Influ3nc3d - 2 0 0 5 Lyrics

Aye wait hold it in my drop top
Bitchhhhh' you is nothing but a cock block
Stupid as f*ck, this shits is non-stop
Shots are firedddd, catchin' up big guap

Wait hold up yes imma' call it
Cashier seeing Snakes on my wallet
Speak of my name yeah you is never honest
I'm Leaving the beat shit becomes a sonnet
The name is Max, your name is wack
Weed is so good boy just don't slack
Homie your sanity is something you lack
Yeah You is a bitch you ain't in a trap

Aye yeah bro like what are you on
They know my belt Luis Vuitton
All in my head these feelings are wrong
Smokin' that good shit straight from the bong

Caught me off guard right in my feelings
Bitches are dumb starting to see things
I'm going out booked on these meetings
Your shits trash keeps on repeating

All them hoes tryna' f*ck around
Yes I see bitches from outta town
You said spin my whole act around
All these tracks, that's how I'm getting down

Aye
Will not get out, yes I am lazy
One bitch is stupid but two bitches crazy
Whip out the lighter, the blunt, we blazing
Half of them came, but no it ain't swayze
Take em' all out, Don't need an AP
I slide like I ride, don't overtake me
We Smokin' And Juicin', feeling so hazy
Rackades and hoes, no you don't faze me

McLovin' these hoes, Big Macs for days
Chill at the trap, homie you can stay
But for the hoes, yeah they can go away
Speak of that tough shit, you hasn't got laid
I just don't care I nut on her face
Let's look it up, I'm getting paid
Her ass is cake, and yuh it's homemade
Purp with a straw, or lemonade
Rackin' up 50's, I think I'm okay
That bitch is bad yeah she my babe
All in her pussy I can't escape
My baby's ass is something I crave

This shit all started in 2005
Yes that is something I can't deny
Her coochie is red just like my eyes
You're getting High off your own supply
Smoking your shit no one gets high
I'm in my head like oh god my might die
She waiting in bed with a surprise
And she's always saying she's packin' no lies
I'm having fun, my time will not fly
You is too dumb, fake, or dry
Too good for this shit, no I'm not sly
My shit is drippy your shit is dry
This shit all started in 2005
Talking too much, you killing the vibe
She is a magazine and yes I'll subscribe
Yo bitch be with us you know I can't lie
The homies just started in 2004
They lackin' straight up asking for more
We can agree your girl is a whore
F*ck this dude up till he down on the floor
But you know I cannot, Not anymore
Sadness is bleeding right to the core
Killin' theses dudes you're starting a war
When we is chilling she's asking for more
I throw this shit out right through the door