Makin Bands – 03 Greedo

I’m makin’ bands, I’m makin’ bands
Nigga you ain’t touchin’ paper we ain’t shakin’ hands
You can watch me cook the cake up, imma bake them grams
I got that lean, that Percocet, and I got all them xans
I’m makin’ bands, I’m makin’ bands
Nigga you ain’t touchin’ paper we ain’t shakin’ hands
You can watch me cook the cake up, imma bake them grams
I got that lean, that Percocet, and I got all them xans

Makin’ some noise just like the ambulance
I put them g’s on niggas head just like it’s Pakistan
My team been ballin’ since the 80’s like Los Angeles Rams
My pack touched down way in St. Louis, send them all these grams
I started off beefin’ wit choppa’s now I need a lamb
Bitch I’m greedy ’bout my dollas so I’m goin’ ham
If you ain’t gon’ sell no drugs then homie we ain’t friends
Flew one dozen turtle doves inside a Dodge Ram, and they get jammed
Might trap some shells, they’ll wet you up like clams
You know I bang with Wu-Tang just like the fuckin’ clan, no method man
If you ain’t got that paper why you pussies playin’?
Boy yo’ life is very plain but me I had a plan
I’m finna go and hit a trap out of a sprinter van
I never bend around JC but know the
My lil’ hook is poppin’ beezy got ’em jigglin’
My lil’ hook is poppin’ beezy got ’em jigglin’, cuz I’m a pimp

I’m makin’ bands, I’m makin’ bands
Nigga you ain’t touchin’ paper we ain’t shakin’ hands
You can watch me cook the cake up, imma bake them grams
I got that lean, that Percocet, and I got all them xans
I’m makin’ bands, I’m makin’ bands
Nigga you ain’t touchin’ paper we ain’t shakin’ hands
You can watch me cook the cake up, imma bake them grams
I got that lean, that Percocet, and I got all them xans

I got bitches in the trenches
I got chickens in the kitchen
I got 50 in my britches
I can get it out these bitches
I can [?] whippin’
Watch me grow it watch me clip it
Watch me order it and ship it
Watch me vacuum seal and zip it
Zip it, zip it, never snitch it
Designer stitchin’ by my zippers
Cali nigga, LA Clippers
In Atlanta with some strippers
She gon’ fuck her friend and kiss her
When I’m gone she sendin’ pictures
She get lit of all the liquor
She gon’ rob me like a [?]
She gon’ buy me that new Fisker
If she like me I could pimp her
Give her pointers when I’m with her
That’s the only time I tip her
Baby told me in September
When I get out in November
She’ll be pregnant by December
I say it’s a wrap by Christmas
It’s green like the Grinch’s shit
Green Bay Packers clenchin’ shit
Partaking no licks and shit
Bang, bang, bang, no witnesses
Flexin’ all my business, shit
Tattoos on my face and shit
Whatchu’ gon’ do when you get old?
Jewelry on my dentures bitch

I’m makin’ bands, I’m makin’ bands
Nigga you ain’t touchin’ paper we ain’t shakin’ hands
You can watch me cook the cake up, imma bake them grams
I got that lean, that Percocet, and I got all them xans
I’m makin’ bands, I’m makin’ bands
Nigga you ain’t touchin’ paper we ain’t shakin’ hands
You can watch me cook the cake up, imma bake them grams
I got that lean, that Percocet, and I got all them xans