Singing to the Cheese
Sosa Baby
Blood Gang, baby (Sosa on the beat)
Get-It Gang, baby
Hop on the road, 'cause I'm goin' to get that money
I pull up, pop out, but I'm smokin' on chronic
Explain this to me, boy, how you allergic to money?
You can't be allergic to them fifties and hunnids
I pull up, pop out and I'm reekin' of weed
I pull the racks out and I'm reekin' of G's
I pull the guap out and I'm singin' them G's
Like, "Ba-da-ba-ba-ba," singin' to the cheese
Ayy, ayy
What do ya know, pissy wrist, pissy throat
My pissy finger, pissy ear get pissy hoes
My palm itchin' plenty guap get plenty hoes
You think it's sweet them weapons I get plenty those
I want some head, this nigga bitch she 1-10
I want some grands, want some millions, want some billions
Don't want no friends, want some weed, want some killers
I want some streets, want some houses, want some buildings
I pull up flex a nigga like gotta be kiddin' me
I got the TEC the P11 it gotta be with me
Don't be against me boy you better be with me
You better call the SWAT and they better come get me
Bitch I'm rich but I still got that savage in me
I'm high as fuck bitch I got two sevens in me
Point out the fuck-nigga think he better than me
This is a anarchy I got the jacks up in me
Hop on the road, 'cause I'm goin' to get that money
I pull up, pop out, but I'm smokin' on chronic
Explain this to me, boy, how you allergic to money?
You can't be allergic to them fifties and hunnids
I pull up, pop out and I'm reekin' of weed
I pull the racks out and I'm reekin' of G's
I pull the guap out and I'm singin' them G's
Like, "Ba-da-ba-ba-ba," singin' to the cheese
Ayy, ayy
Like, "Ba-da-ba-ba-ba," singin' to the cheese
Like Sosa Wonder, I be with the keys
Call Me Sosa Ray Charles or Sosa R&B
Told yo' bitch come here call me Sosa Scorpion
Call me Sosa Subzero I'm the man with the Big Glo
Call me Sosa Liu Kang I'm the man with the kicks on
Call me Sosa Budokai I'm the nigga with the dragon ball
Call me Sosa Yu-Gi-Oh I'm the nigga with the dragon card
Ayy
Hop on the road, 'cause I'm goin' to get that money
I pull up, pop out, but I'm smokin' on chronic
Explain this to me, boy, how you allergic to money?
You can't be allergic to them fifties and hunnids
I pull up, pop out and I'm reekin' of weed
I pull the racks out and I'm reekin' of G's
I pull the guap out and I'm singin' them G's
Like, "Ba-da-ba-ba-ba," singin' to the cheese
Ayy, ayy
