Young Nudy - All White

Ayy, Mahd, tell 'em turn that noise off

I'm in the street, all-white Air Force
Sellin' that white, don't bring no ones
Big blue face, ain't nothin' but hun-duns
Young nigga 'bout it, oh, yeah, big gun
And I got fish on the scale, for real
Smell like a nail shop when you come in here
Nothin' but the brick talk when you get here
And you wanna buy some bags? Nigga got OG
And I got Zs, nigga, break 'em in Os
Only sell Ps when you buy a load
Three fifty for the zippity smoke
Four hundred for the folks, I don't know
Three-five is a fifty or more
Break down trap, beat at the door
I don't touch nothin' but this dough
Get money, only thing I know

What you gon' do when you gotta shoot at they ride?
What you gon' do when your people gon' die?
What you gon' do when it's time to slide?
What you gon' do when you got a four-five?
What you gon' do when the 357? Hit him in the face and send him straight to Hell
What you gon' do? What you gon' do when these folk come through?
What you gon' do when 12 hit the door?
Nigga gon' run, then you gon' shoot back
It don't matter, better keep you a gat
Nigga can't get caught, nigga, no lack
Hell, yeah, nigga, we packin', no lackin'
Hell, nah, nigga, we blood roll lackin'
Hell, yeah, play with a nigga, toe tag somethin'
Everybody know, everybody red flag somethin'
Yes, sir, nigga, I'm in the 6, EA, East Atlanta, lil' bitch
Paradise East, bitch, I'm lovin' the brick
Come in the 'partments servin' this shit
You want a bag, and I'll get it straight to you
You want a brick, and I'm whippin' it up
You country, boy, and I'm fuckin' you up
You talkin' money, I'm turnin' it up
Yes, sir, bless her, ooh, I checked her
She wanna fuck, oh, yeah, I'm next up
Turnt up, bitch, hell, nah, no next up
Everybody know, but they stuck on mustard, y'all niggas ketchup
Hell, yeah, head up, tell my opps to head up, yeah

I'm for real

I'm in the street, all-white Air Force
Sellin' that white, don't bring no ones
Big blue face, ain't nothin' but hun-duns
Young nigga 'bout it, oh, yeah, big gun
And I got fish on the scale, for real
Smell like a nail shop when you come in here
Nothin' but the brick talk when you get here
And you wanna buy some bags? Nigga got OG
And I got Zs, nigga, break 'em in Os
Only sell Ps when you buy a load
Three fifty for the zippity smoke
Four hundred for the folks, I don't know
Three-five is a fifty or more
Break down trap, beat at the door
I don't touch nothin' but this dough
Get money, only thing I know

Front door, back door, them foe
I'm in here walkin' with my nigga Dope
Came from Atlanta, got it for that low
You make extra when you get on the road
You gon' stretch him, got your arm in the bowl
Whip that shit up, and I'm glarin' her soul
Sellin' that dog, gotta eat all the food
Keep this shit street if you wanna be goon
Packin' pistols, don't you have this shit tucked?
Have this shit ready, it's time to bust
I gotta hit for the money, know it's up
Just squeeze that bitch, and don't you freeze up
And now I see these niggas need us
I remember people wouldn't treat us
Like people really, really need 'em
We up like a motherfucker
Show the motherfucker we do not fuckin' need 'em
Now we treat 'em like the opps when we see them
Skin a nigga like a pig, we bleed 'em
Build me a army, nigga, do I breed 'em?
Let me be a dawg 'cause I move like a leader
Been in these streets, too many stripes like a zebra
Smoke on a nigga, laugh like hyena
Dinner plate, put him on the street, we eat him
Been a play, and I got a Ben for the play
Petty move, nigga, that's not my way
Take a nigga off, still back in the day
Some of y'all niggas were bitches from back in the day

Yeah, I'm in the street, all-white Air Force
Sellin' that white, don't bring no ones
Big blue face, ain't nothin' but hun-duns
Young nigga 'bout it, oh, yeah, big gun
And I got fish on the scale, for real
Smell like a nail shop when you come in here
Nothin' but the brick talk when you get here
And you wanna buy some bags? Nigga got OG
And I got Zs, nigga, break 'em in Os
Only sell Ps when you buy a load
Three fifty for the zippity smoke
Four hundred for the folks, I don't know
Three-five is a fifty or more
Break down trap, beat at the door
I don't touch nothin' but this dough
Get money, only thing I know