Get along, little doggie, get along, get along
Get along, little doggie, get along
John Dillin
I'm living that YSL lifestyle
We living that 1017 lifestyle
We living that rich nigga shit lifestyle
We living that fly shit only lifestyle
Get along, little doggie, get along, get along
Get along, little doggie, get along, get along
Get along, little doggie, get along, get along
Get along, little doggie
John Dillinger
I'm geeked out my mother fucker mind
I got a whole lot of shit, I ain't paid a dime
We take everything, we'll steal the scene
We take niggas bling, (money talk like Charlie Sheen)
Man down, get it
Treated his body like [?] bricks, split him
Catch his pussy ass, take his belt off, whip him
Pussy nigga tryna run off with them bricks, talkin' bout he missin'
Fold his pussy ass up just like a centipede
Count so much money with my thumb, everything I touch turn green
I'll make your white t-shirt feel like Miskeen
100 bands got my skinnies looking like Bugle Boy jeans
Wake the fuck up fatass, that pussy nigga got the [?]
Let's go head and grab, then smash
Slow it down, don't you see they rounds
Yeah they army down even though we gone spray 'em down
I'm on that, so therefore I keep my hand on my gat
Nigga shot me in my finger, (now I laugh)
Now I'm shooting Tommy Gun (with a rag)
And I hope out in that 67 Jag
Smash, smash on they ass
[?] ball son, I got big guns
I'm throwing trust funds
Hit 'em with the golden gun, James Bond's son
