WAKA FLOCKA FLAME - Big Homie Flock lyrics

rate me

This trap hard, it’s on fire

Beat around nigga like a busy bee player

I won my hood, no marathon

Took out for a minute, now I’m back on

Them base bigger, my dreads longer

My niggas realer, my weed stronger

Smoking that pack, that body builder

Money talks, I don’t fuck with you

You can’t dress, you ain’t got swag

You a walking label, you a signed artist

Got my own label, fuck these niggas

With their middle finger, I’mma die reaching

I’m a gang banger so it’s fuck what critics say

I’m talking money, I keep wanting K

Don’t make me transform to my old ways

Keep black diamonds on me like OJ

I’m turnt up of no drugs

You turned down, you get no love

Love is in the G so I’m in the crowd

Acting wild, they all know I go hard

Bitch, I’m death the child

One phone call to them killers, at you

That is speed dial

I was visiting at the same time Joey beat his murder trial

RIP to Call, that’s a fallen soldier

Still collecting opinions, I’m a humble nigga

Never joined forces, make my own way

I keep K, no birthday, fuck her all day

Competition, I eliminate

Follow street laws, don’t litigate

I delegate, you follow

I own my own shit, you borrow

Last nigga try to rob me got shot

Never seen before a half a mil’, that’s real shit

Big Homie Flock Squad