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Correct Back End Lyrics
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Rich Homie Quan
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Correct Back End
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30 thousand for a Jesus piece, I put that on yo' head Freddy Krueger don't scare me no more, them boys will bite you in that bed Talk to God before I eat, and end it off with a "Amen" I don't care how tired I get, I'mma still run up them bands I'mma still count up my back end, I'mma still do it for my fam Just because I got a lil' money, that do not define the person I am I don't give a fuck about what the critics say, I'mma stack it up for them on purpose I clocked in, like I'm workin' I ain't have to sell my soul, it ain't worth it Sold out, sold out, now I'm mad We done sold out, it's a hold out, hold out on them bags We gon' roll 'bout 1 somethin', 4 of y'all, 2 in the van I don't care what that money do, I'mma blow this shit like a fan RIP to my nigga Shawty Lo, I'm still walkin' 'round feelin' like the man Commissary goin' out on Sunday, gotta make sure I still got a plan Talk to my girl on Monday, on the phone with my hands in my pants Walkin' around with my hand on my ear 'cause I ain't heard a word that they sayin' Niggas talk about what they gon' do, rubber bands still around that paper Overdue for some new music, might as well put it out for my haters Niggas talkin' hard, know they can't stop me, I'm in that front yard with them choppers I'll do whatever for my partner, I hit the jewelry store with 30 thousand for a Jesus piece, I put that on yo' head Freddy Krueger don't scare me no more, them boys will bite you in that bed Talk to God before I eat, and end it off with a "Amen" I don't care how tired I get, I'mma still run up them bands I'mma still count up my back end, I'mma still do it for my fam Just because I got a lil' money, that do not define the person I am I don't give a fuck about what the critics say, I'mma stack it up for them on purpose I clocked in, like I'm workin' I ain't have to sell my soul, it ain't worth it Nigga lurkin', cell phone, no serivce Tint on the car not workin', so I had to close them curtains (Ooooh) Pulled up in somethin' they ain't never heard of I ain't seen no caution tape, but the whole scene I murdered (Woooo) Lyin' to me, I'm used to bitches Watchin' out who I'm talkin' to, 'cause a lot of niggas, they superstitious Dirty pots, 'cause I used the dishes 40 Glock, keep it in my britches 50 shots of them big bullets, that lil' nigga might need stitches That big body, I lean in it That drop top sellin' fiends in it And I ain't gotta wear a suit everyday to show a nigga I mean business With all this lean, I need a kidney Why the lil' boy goin' so hard? You tellin' on me, you the real 12 You lame as hell like a soap opera 30 thousand for a Jesus piece, I put that on yo' head Freddy Krueger don't scare me no more, them boys will bite you in that bed Talk to God before I eat, and end it off with a "Amen" I don't care how tired I get, I'mma still run up them bands I'mma still count up my back end, I'mma still do it for my fam Just because I got a lil' money, that do not define the person I am I don't give a fuck about what the critics say, I'mma stack it up for them on purpose I clocked in, like I'm workin' I ain't have to sell my soul, it ain't worth it
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