NEMAME ft. Telljo

MONACO

CASTING ft. Mocha (Prod. Prodlem)

Lyrics:

playboiTricky:

runnin it up
hop out the truck
double the cup
i dont give a fuck


what you about
pockets of loud
boy from the south
no fakes aloud
chasin them bills
countin them kills
straight for my boys
drop from the royce

hop out that royce
heard all that noise
we be them boyz
hittin them coins
got that rose
western roads
yea they know
bout them hoes

hop out
get them they stamp
king of the land
caught it backhand
fuck round
pull on ma hand
put on demand
nothin be planned

fuck on ma fuck on ma stance
bitches they lovin the drip on my vans
gucci that prada all over my pants
i got it straight ,yea that import japan

Mocha:

i was deep in the mud but i didnt get stuck
when there was no hope i didnt give up
i had no money, no food or no crib
all of my friends they did not HMU

now they back and they showin me love
cut they see a nigga that bouta blow up
call that fake love
so all of this chicken you aint gettin none

dont ask me for nothing you aint gonna get it
you had your chance but didnt use ya ticket
they ask something man these niggas dont get it

playboiTricky:

look at these bitchese they showin me love
say it again bitch i dont give a fuck
ask me for something you tryna get hit
play wit the kitty shes all on my dick
hop around put a cop around
pop an ounce for a 20 round
fuck around for a hundred pound
fuck around got em on the ground

IDGAF feat. Mocha (prod. rocktee)

Lyrics

And i got a choppa on me 
And i keep on shootin till i bleed
Trappin wit that 30 round my waist
Smokin till i faint shits insane

Then i know
Then i know
Ridin round the city wit the po
No they dont know
Ask me what im feelin they dont know

They dont know bout them chainz
They dont know bout them rings
They dont know bout them shootas
They dont know bout my brain
And i smoke till i faint
And i smoke till they fake
With the chain and propaine
Imma put it to your face


I dont want that but i want this
And they always lie on the carpet
Put you on the spot in the cockpit
Livin all my life in the moshpit
Showin all the love but you wanna diss
Comin to my grave with the cannabis
Comin to your grave with a can of piss
And that caterpiller door on all of this

Superstitions
Got the mind all vicious
In the back with bitches
Fuckin wit the swishes
Got that check ridiculous
Imma make you pick less
You gon smoke you sickless
Like that phone is ringless

Pickin up the phone it go ring ring ring
Hittin all the hoes wit the ting zing zing
Baquet on my neck and my ring ring ring
Smokin on that dope wit my thing thing thing

Ill make you bad
Ill make it stack
Ill make you go 
Grabbin the pole
Fillin the role
Dig up the hole
The chainz on deck
This shit is attached

Reckless wit this shit
Smile on the bitch
Ill make it go go in the back 
Fire on my clique
It makes no sense yea
She poppin the xanxs yea
Look at yo mens yea
First thing he ran yea

Got that chopper on me and i sting yea
Fuckin wit the shawty wit the bank yea
Big bank yea
Like these things yea
No romance yea 
Im gon make you the shit then i know


Then i know
Then i know
Ridin round the city wit the po
No they dont know
Ask me what im feelin they dont know

They dont know bout them chainz
They dont know bout them rings
They dont know bout them shootas
They dont know bout my brain
And i smoke till i faint
And i smoke till they fake
With the chain and propaine
Imma put it to your face

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