Written by: Forch Fabalon Prod by: FRE$H488! CHEESE CAKE, CHIPS, GREEN (INTRO) I think it a far and true statement to say That aint no n888a out here gone out hustle me man Not, not out here in these streets, man nah I been doing this too long and too strong (FRE$H488!) You got to come get it if you want it (Chorus) My crew be on it bro, I can’t lie, we just want paper, want paper To be total honest fool, we just here To pull off some capers, some capers Get from round me dude, If you aint here, To stack up dat paper, dat paper I just want Cheese Cake, Chips, Green Player you know what I mean X2 (Verse One) I’m balling, I’m balling, Can’t you see I’m balling So I won’t stop, I can’t stop This game it just keep calling So I will, I will, keep pushing for my pesos Fu*k what you heard, them ni**as nerds Sounding absurd, we are that word Pushing dat turf, Ooohhhh, hot boy in these hot times they running off that slick talk then it mess around and be yo time keep dat sweeper clean it up in no time accept no disrespect or no hoe time get dat chin in check and that’s on mines you aint go do sh*t, sit there like bit*h who popping like this ooohhh, H-Town and we on one we popping bottles, got plenty girls, gone VIP it some other time, we got thick em girls and it going down when they spread em wide it’s like sunshine got boys face-timing they main chick like baby aint never ever come round push, push, push, I don’t see nothing but bush these girls they just want to play, so I stick em down, lick em down, flip em round then I oops in they face then back, back on the block or the highway, getting, getting to the money real boss way, its Fabalon uckfay, ouyay you n***as never really liked my sh*t no way (Chorus X2) (Verse Two) Talk to me, talk to me, Make it fast though, Paper be calling for me, can’t hold it up I be telling these people, you got to hit while the hitting is good, That aint no bull, that aint no feces Hold up, count my sh*t, This aint no three piece, before I get down the street, I just want eat the pu**y up, tell these girls it aint Fabalon enough Yeah, aint none of you ni*8as off in my lane I guess the guapo, the guapo’s to blame We sit different, we aint cut cloth the same Aint your fault your O.G. is to blame He was bit*h so you spit the same Talking bout years upon years upon game Aint no way in hell you can beat me an Fame I can rock it for the hoes Out of pocket for my bros We aint tripping on no doe Bout it, bout it, tally hoe Blocka, blocka, those opposed Just so that you know Too fat to go toe to toe, 30 cal drum Ocean of soul, Get this MF cracking like whoa Talk him off the ledge no You disrespected my woes Fabalon gang, gang, gang, disrespect will bang, bang, bang In and out this MF like yeah Stick and move, jab, dip it aint fare Getting to tripping shoot, shine on them ni**as Blue coupe all I ever had, kept dark skin chick on my neck We flexing baby what you know about that Hot damn! (Chorus x2)