Backwoods Lyrics

Where the fuck is your wood at nigga

You was not invited to this party

Ayy, you better have your own wood, cause I ain't passing mine

No I don't smoke grams, I can't match a 5

If a nigga chief my wood, then that's a crime

Took the time, got the formula, I'm a mastermind

Real life black ops, it's dark matter time

I miss my pops a lot, nigga I love em til the afterlife

I've been punching niggas, I ain't even have to swipe

The way she bake the cake, made you think that it's batter time

Yo bitch bad, but mine's the badder kind

This the type of tree to have you high, til after nine

No more liquor in the store, she said pass the wine

Niggas want ho ho hoes, they must think it's Santa time

You can never catch up to me, cause I'm on chapter five

Has your chick ever cheated and you asked her why

Has your chick ever cheated and you asked her why

Has your bitch ever cheated nigga and you asked her why

Like why in the fuck would you do that

Knowing I can get real wavy with my durag

Take a nigga bitch, now he want his boo back

Something like the straw hats, nigga where your crew at

Broke ass niggas

Quick to cut a bitch off, that's a new fan

A couple niggas moved schools, they ain't move back

Walked in the mall, bitch I'm asking where the trues at

Asked fans who could put Az on, they said you can

I'm King Julian, feeling like a new man

Fuck my ex, my next, gon get a new man

I dislike niggas, always asking where the food at

How the fuck you want beef, but asking where the soup at

Where the Za and the woods, let's hit the stu man

I hate liars and cheetahs , but gorillas where the zoo at

This is not a fanny pack, bitch this my Louie bag

It's still fuck the haters, don't ask me where the truce at

RIP to Wayneo , they should bring Bruce back

If the wack is on stock, then hit your juice dance

Two plus two is five, all I know is cool math

I'm a cook for my lady, welcome to the food trap

If you fuck with my family or stab me, you'll get blew back

Nah I don't bang, but you'd think that I'm a blues fan

Boy must be off the dirty, asking where the blues at

Handy manny, hell nah, you can't get your tool back

Hey, you better have your own wood

Cause I ain't passing mine

No, I don't smoke grams

I can't match a five,

If a nigga chief my wood

Then that's a crime

Took the time, got the formula, I'm a mastermind

Real life black ops, it's dark matter time

I miss my pops a lot, nigga I love him till the afterlife

I've been punching niggas, I ain't even had to swipe

The way she bake the cake, made you think that it's batter time

Yo bitch bad, but mine's the badder kind

This the type of tree that have you high, till after nine

No more liquor in the store, she said pass the wine

Niggas want ho ho hoes, they must think it's santa time

You can never catch up to me, cause I'm on chapter five

Has your chick ever cheated, and you asked her why

Has your chick ever cheated, and you asked her why

Has your bitch ever cheated nigga, and you asked her why