Brand New Guy

You know these big mouth niggas don't know how to act. I got my West Coast connection. These dead in the street industry mothafuckas talking 'bout "We can't eat," talking 'bout "we brand new guys," y'all niggas suck a dick!

I'm camo down to my boxers, gold teeth, a bathing ape
It's animals in my projects like monkeys, orangutans
Banana clip on that chopper, I hold heat, bangers bang
(Let Chiquita speak) Bet it keep the peace that Lil B, brrangadang
I don't care if you blue or you red flagging, hair swinging, my pants sagging
Hoes all on my band wagon, your bitch gagging, she jet lagging
All my cuz niggas, what's cracking? All my blood niggas, what's popping?
I ain't set tripping, I just happen to know who click clacking, you mismatching
Fuck swag and you been jacking, fuck fly, I am fashion
Tryna cop that Benz wagon, my bitch drive it and my friends crash it
Niggas threat with the chit chatting, see a nigga don't shit happen
I'm finna blow on that Bin Laden, so talk money, pig latin
(Suck my fuckin' dick, bitch)

Brand new clip, brand new nine
Brand new bitch, brand new ride
Brand new weed, brand new high
Brand new me meet the brand new guys

345 be the big toy, now which nigga want it with the fat boy?
Clipped up like I'm paranoid, high as hell nigga, Fitzroy
Pull it off through the city like "errt"
Seen that ho nigga like "errrr," hopped up on a nigga like murk
Put that pussy nigga in a purse
You wouldn't be the first, cover him with dirt
Put him in the ground, he was down to earth
Napped up nigga, I been down since birth
Backpack full of random work
With two bad hoes, I'll teach you how to jerk
Teach you how to jerk, swaggin' in my J's
Pop me a pill and throw that pussy a rave
My prerogative ways
Nappy chin hairs with the brand new fade
Brand new nigga with the brand new venue
Sold that bitch out shoulda made that ho bigger
Killing careers make these cupcakes remember
My objective is to serve your agenda
Biggie and Nas put they ass in a blender
Sprinkle some 50 and came out this nigga
Equipped with a gat and the dick in your mouth
Balls in my hands and your bitch in my house
Twisting up weed, I'm digging her out
Just filling her out
Do all that shit you be talking about
While you gone? Shit, Netflix on your couch
What this popcorn about?
Microwave oven while you out there cuffin'
You over there lovin'
That bitch be my stuffing, like... like we really be fucking

Brand new clip, brand new nine
Brand new bitch, brand new ride
Brand new weed, brand new high
Brand new me meet the brand new guys

Brand new shirt to the brand new drawers
Brand new socks to the brand new Glock
This mothafucka hold 15, slap that ho in, tell the clip get lost
Bitch, I'm a boss, pulled up clean, don't you hear the exhaust
Got my tie on, gripping on my iron, who I'm 'bout to fire on?
(Rap game fucked up, boy, fuck you think I rap for?)
(Crack game fucked up, boy, fuck you think I trap for?)
(Riding 'round with that mask on, like a Mac attack when that strap on)
(Like a Shaq attack on that backboard, clap on, clap off)
Blue pit in my back yard (Red nose my bad broad)
Titan full of that hydro (Pretty nigga, no catwalk)
Big burner in your big mouth (Pussy niggas suck lead off)
I pull it up then skirt off, vodka shots, he Smirnoff
(40 ounce of that Cristal, Rose, that Rick Ross)
Got it jumping like Kriss Kross (Mismatching, no jigsaw)
No horseplay when we quick draw (Pussy nigga get a tit job)
Hands up, stick your mans up, your time's up, the new brand's up, Q!



Credits
Writer(s): Composer Author Unknown, Quincy Matthew Hanley, Rakim Mayers, Don Cannon, Lyle Leduff
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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