Oh, Cash Out Whatever I Want They give me whatever He give me whatever I want Your bitch, she give me whatever I want My club, he give me whatever I want When it comes to the mall, I'm gettin whatever I want When it comes to clipse, we shooting whatever you want ooh Fuck you pay me, it's on my hat What's on my waist? you know it's the strap Cop on my shirt, your bitch gon work And I go bizerk, when I'm spittin on these verses I'm killin shit these niggas better call a hurst quick, I'm so sick, my wrist sick, I spit bricks I pop shit, but I show shit when I pop shit yeah, You pop shit just pop shit and I pop shit And I swear my kicks cost a do wop And I swear my wrist costs a half block And I swear I'll put a whole brick on your head And I swear I ain't never talkin to the Feds Big blocks I swear, I cashed out I swear So tight with this bread nigga, but these bullets I share I got dubs under that V, I will Dre beats your broad I got blood under my feet, I got plane seats in my car I get a hundred bricks on my arm, I got a hundred stacks in my charm Make it rain, sin city I spend hundred bands on that storm Now don't fuck around with that cold boy now Young blood on that dough boy now Came up off that dough boy block, Straight up to that billboad spot