Paroles: Theme Music

Purps on the Beat, 808 Mafia
Sounds like some fucked up trick or treat music

[Verse 1]
I took the helicopter home from the Saints game last night
Left the Ferrari at the Dome, I was too drunk to drive
Real Grand Theft Auto lifestyle
I couldn't make the shit up if I tried
Fucked up the game in 2009
It was written in golden ink if I cosign
Major labels was lovin' on my assembly line
How I be doin' mine, sellin' these rhymes like coke lines
Over time, every time, seein' double
Supersport Chevys, what you know about that muscle
Andretti, you cannot compare me to no busters
Because they don't hustle, they afraid of the struggle
The game will break them niggas down 'til it don't love 'em

Start a car with this gas, start a war with this cash [x3]
Start a car with this gas, start a car with this, yeah

[Verse 2]
Wherever the money, I'm runnin' at
With a empty sack
Fillin' it up and I'm comin' back with all that, you need it
I seen you scratch, you can't ignore your itch, you know you need your fix
Chef Boy-Ar-Audio D, servin' that choice shit
They on it, they want it
That uncut, that rawness, no footprint
No stretch, no cut, just that straight up
Man, what the fuck
They outside, they lined up
Been waitin' for a nigga all month
Knowin' that I got another one, another batch still yet to come

Start a car with this gas, start a war with this cash [x4]
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