Cases (feat. 2 Chainz)

"Cases"

(Feat. 2 Chainz)

We cop Rozay by the cases, Forces by the cases

Three hundred dollar True Religion, we cop em by the cases

Lawyer fight my cases, Gucci's got no laces

Bakin' Soda by the cases, in the kitchen doin' the matrix

Go up, down, up, down, my top doing the matrix

I'll need a model, we don't ride shit basic

Everything kitty, cocaine crazy

Bitch they hit my phone, they fucked up my situation

DJ droppin' Gotti, dope boy's all went cray

Shoot a thousand, bet a thousand, gambling with your savings

Kitchen doing numbers, I may need a helper

Bitch said she wasn't fucking, so you know a nigga left her

Rozay by the cases, rubbers by the boxes

They all that I'm the shit, so how the fuck she gon' be cocky?

Yeah these hoes be foxy, yeah, my eyes be rockin'

I pulled up in that white cutlass, 4: 15 that bass was droppin'

We cop Rozay by the cases, Forces by the cases

Three hundred dollar True Religion, we cop em by the cases

Lawyer fight my cases, Gucci's got no laces

Bakin' Soda by the cases, in the kitchen doin' the matrix

I am gearin' to the money, all upper cases

Trap on fire, I stay down the street from Satan

Hell on Earth, I say hello to my neighbor

Ghetto nigger got a mansion, and I'm still stealing cable

Still air force ridin', I should get sky mileage

Try me in the club, we gon' whoop your ass inside it

All my hoes excited, damn yo weed is quiet

Plug getting mad, cause he think I'm gon' retire

Just had a case, lawyer ask for a dismissal

Real d-boy, I gotta settle for some Christmas

Me and Yo Gotti, from Atlanta down to Memphis

Getting money I could pay you nigga, fool, pay attention

Favorite rapper dead, so the gamin' got borin'

Pulled up in some foreign, drop the top and hit the horn

Snatched out doin' a hundred, they like Gotti where ya goin'?

I got a bitch from THU, I'm 'bout to scoop her from the dorm

Yeah, we doin' the matrix, call her children of the corn

Fuckin', somethin' ain't right, 'n she gon' swallow my unborn

Friends say she whorrin', talkin' bout she goin'

Say she want that Luis bag, I asked her which one

It's not a big issue nigga, know my ho can get it

I could get your bottle, truckload fill up my whole kitchen

Why these niggas bitchin, when they come down to they bitches

All these excuses, all this trickin, man I guess they just ain't get me