14 ContributorsCheerios Lyrics

[Chorus]

(Tay Keith, fuck these niggas up)

Ah damn, ah damn, ah damn, ah damn

You know Gucci let it blam, then he pass it to his man

Got a batting glove on, he don't hold it in his hand

Then he throw it out the window and just leave it where it land

Or he throw it in the water make 'em dig it out the sand, aye

Scratched off the serial, we call that shit a Cheerio

And then they take their clothes off and bleachin' that material

I'm gone

[Verse]

Aye

They be wishing death on me like 50 Cent

Many Men, many many many mеn

Trust me there's a ton of thеm

I should probably be in there with Thug and 'em

Or be in there with Gunna and 'em

If they locking niggas up for it

Growing up around some hittas tryna govern 'em, boy

Building something from the bottom with ya brothers there, aye

J Skull get hot, he an oven hand, aye

Spend some bands, but I'll never fall in love again

Winning not enough for me, I like to be petty bout it

Drop a number one and when it's done I just forget about it

Aww, you think you know what happen 'cause you red about it?

Aww, give me head and don't get in your head about it

Crisp Nike Forces the only time I force it

I told her get a bag, and some shoes, and some more shit

She heard I got a girl and I bought her even more shit

Don't tell me what you heard if you can't tell me who the source is

Aww, I had a sixth sense at 21

How the fuck did the 6 let in 21

Older women always told me I was one of one

She was 30 when we sexed, I was 21

I be talking to the D.A. like that nigga dumb, what

You be talking to the D.A. like, "Yeah, he the one"

You almost 50, but you're rapping like you're 21

Where the fuck they do that aside from where you're from?

[Chorus]

(Tay Keith, fuck these niggas up)

Ah damn, ah damn, ah damn, ah damn

You know Gucci let it blam, then he pass it to his man

Got a batting glove on, he don't hold it in his hand

Then he throw it out the window and just leave it where it land

Or he throw it in the water make 'em dig it out the sand, aye

Scratched off the serial, we call that shit a Cheerio

And then they take their clothes off and bleachin' that material

I'm gone