Belt To Azz ft. Pizzx2 & Teejugg Lyrics

Look

It's Mr. P.I

Put a belt to his ass like his momma did

Mr. P for president like Obama did

Yang gang in this bitch and I ain't switching shit

Lil' bitch steady mad cause I fucked her friend

Ring a roll, chopper on me like a finger roll

Hold my chain up, baby, this a dinner roll

It's like a field goal, how a nigga kickin' hoes

It's like a field goal, how a nigga kickin' hoes

Ayy, pay me in full, call me Mr. Mitch

It's a grand slam, baby, How I broke the bitch

I put a wig on the pig, she gotta make me rich

If she can't bleed the blade, that ain't my type of bitch

Told my opps no back an fourth time to end this shit

I said the clip too big, gotta bend this bitch

Brody got the roach spray if he tryna bug

Had to spin his head off if he tryna mug

Keep a brick in my pocket like I run with Shaq

Niggas said I missed a hair top, let's spin it back

Ain't no rap snacks, nigga, I need chips for this

Still a fly young nigga, that ain't changed a bit

Bitch, I got dreams of gettin' rich

Fly-ass nigga, my brody said he feel like Money Mitch

T.J. creepin' through the cut, Kel said he got the switch

Sactown to East Oakland, bitch, you know we represent

We gettin' drunk up off the D'Ussé, Berry B up in this bitch

Smokin' cookies by the pound, bitch, you know we keep it lit

Yang gang, we keep them hoes, ain't shit for me to cut a bitch

Yang gang, we keep them hoes, ain't shit for me to cut a bitch

Brand new whip, knocked a brand new bitch

Love bustin' on her face, she got brand new lips

An she got a BBL, she got brand new hips

Shawty fuckin' with the gang, she want brand new dick

Call of duty in the streets, keep a brand new stick

Shawty fuckin' with the gang, she want brand new dick

Call of duty in the streets, keep a brand new stick

1453 yea hear me

Uh, yeah, nigga, fuck everybody

I'm back up on my bullshit, but I ain't no Scotty

Bitch, ain't never count a 30 ball, how the fuck you poppin

My shades on, bitch, we in the club, yang gang we rockin

Bitch, ain't never count a 30 ball how the fuck you poppin

Be with the coldest bitches

Niggas never got no paper, got motion sickness

Abuse a card on the site till they froze them bitches

I knew I was a star all my life, I was chosen with it

Mr. Krabs with the sauce, no, I'm stingy with it

Remember I had Fs up in school, now I'm Fendi drippin

Was fellin' tests up in school, now I'm credit boostin

Talkin' bout the scams, you ain't jugg nobody

Sippin' on that green god, no, I'm trissy sippin

Bad bitches at the B&B, got them skinny dippin

I send her in AT&T, cause the Jacks ain't shippin

He ain't postin' pape, guess his punch ain't hittin

Lavin's with the thick lace, so I can't be trippin

I heard he fell in love with his toes, so he can't be pimpin

I hit your drink with some K-Rolls, so you can't be sippin

I'm on the court like I'm D-Rose, so I can't be missin