Tom: F minor•
Intro 1
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I'ma
Verse 1
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rock that ice,
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I put that on my mama
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I'ma shine like lights,
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I put that on my mama
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I'ma ride big wheels,
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I put that on my mama
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I'ma count dollar bills,
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I put that on my mama
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I know you think you're gettin' cash
without Crooked Eye
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I think you rappers need
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to ask about Crooked Eye
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I'm in the Aston Martin
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smashin' out
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Laughin' while niggas cry
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Ice mixed with platinum, how sick am I?
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I let the watch bling, blowout,
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it ain't playin' with ya
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Now that's the way you freeze time
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without takin' pictures
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Yeah, you got the right shape, sister
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Now you need a boss about
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his chains like a shapeshifter
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I hit you strip club freaks
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Throwin' dough up in the air
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like I'm makin' pizza from scratch
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That's why them gold diggers
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want a piece of my scratch
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Got no cheese for you rats, baby,
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these are the facts
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Crooked as hood money
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chasing industry pa per
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If you don't know the biz, go listen to Vapors
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I keep an extra fly bitch in the scraper
Sharpton and Jesse hate me, fuck
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it, this is for gangsters
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I'ma rock that ice,
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I put that on my mama
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I'ma shine like lights,
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I'ma ride big wheels,
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I put that on my mama
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I'ma count dollar bills
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I put that on my mama
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I'm a boss, I'm a boss
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I put that on my mama
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I'm a boss, I'm a boss
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I put that on my mama
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I'm a boss, are you a boss?
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I put that on my mama
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I'm a boss, I'm a boss
Hey, a boss
A two -seater when you
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see me come I floss
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These freaks thinkin' he must be the one
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You loudmouths about to see the gun
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And then be come silent
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I caught the boy slick talk
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in' and it been on
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since I'm from the LBC
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but I don't hang around no old pimps
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Yo old ass fell off, you need a pacemaker
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You closed it and sell nah,
you ain't a tastemaker
Now okay,
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let me hit you with some real talk
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I'm pimpin' my ride
before the price sticker gets peeled off
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Now okay, if I say how much
the wheels cost
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You would say that I was a lil' off,
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My flow is liquid like I got
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too much fluid in the lungs
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I'm just fluent with the tongue
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Soon as I walk in the club,
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the foolishness begun
My dude, I'm street money,
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son, doin' this for fun
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I'ma rock that ice,
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I put that on my mama
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I'ma shine like lights,
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I put that on my mama
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I'ma count dollar bills,
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I put that on my mama
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I'm a boss, I'm a boss,
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I put that on my mama
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I'm a boss, I'm a boss,
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I put that on my mama
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I'm a boss, you a boss,
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I'm a boss, I'm a boss,
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I'ma put that on my mama
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Hey, we in the club deep as super heads,
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Me and my thugs thick as hoes face,
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It's full of slugs and I name my
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That's a hair trigger, yeah, nigga,
slow your roll, man
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I'm still waitin' on somebody
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to bring the West back
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I got the West on my back
Gotta respect that
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And when your block is hotter
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than gonorrhea, piss
Bang the diss until your neck snap
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I'm gettin' at them best rappers alive
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I eat your spirit like soul food,
red snapper and fries
X -Factor, quit acting surprised
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The head -snatching, leg -clapper
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Man, I wish dead rappers could rise
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Y 'all whack, I'm sipping on yak
from humongous bottles
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A mean swing like my chain
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was trained by custom auto
See, I'm accustomed to
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them custom autos
Living like I won the lotto
Y 'all know that's the hustler's motto
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Rock that ice
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I put that on my mama, I'ma shine like lights
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I put that on my mama, I'ma ride big wheels
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I put that on my mama,
I'ma count dollar bills
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I put that on my mama, I'm a boss
I'm a boss
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I put that on my mama, I'm a boss
I'm a boss
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Fm
I put that on my mama, I'm a boss
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I put that on my mama, I'm a boss
I'm a boss
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I put that on my mama
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Ayy, ayy, ayy
Outro 1
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