Help Me, Rhonda

Lyrics

K had called and gave me the word
 Said this nigga had ten birds, in Augusta for the week
 From the islands
 As soon as K told me this shit, I started smiling
 Cause all I could see was money piling
 Shit, on top of money
 Now, K chillin with some money for the week, and Chesapeake
 The heat made my nigga take a break
 If I could catch all 10 of them bitches, and I don't look suspicious
 I'ma sell the fucking quart for the eight the ha ha
 As I told K bye bye, he shot me advice
 If you gone do it nigga do it nigga, fuck thinking twice
 This is the lick of a life
 Go fight 'em fire for fire
 Hit my hip when you finish said his calling card expired
 Hung up the phone, contemplating on who help me do it
 There's Kia and Jessica and then Rhonda truitt
 Now Jessica to stupid and Kia lie to much,
 I guess I'll take Rhonda, cause Rhonda don't give a fuck
 But first I got to pump her up
 I'ma throw what, 10 g's
 Tell her if she really love me she would do this for me
 Eternally we'll be together for better or for worse
 But first we got to take these niggas to the hurt
 Burst in they shit, get the bricks come back out
 I'm be waiting in the chevy, you know I'm ready to take em' out
 If they front 'cha baby, come on, we make it we rich
 Come on, shit, Rhonda, my down ass bitch
 I'm the realist bitch
 I'm mo' realer than reality
 Fuck that dumb shit, it take nothing to a casualty
 Well I'm the realist bitch
 I'm mo realer than reality (well uh huh)
 Fuck that dumb shit (uh huh)
 It take nothing to a casualty (what)
 FBI be after me, quareter ki in my womanly (uh huh)
 Coming back from St. Croix
 First lady to Pastor Troy (well come on)
 Even I'm a Georgia Boy, cause boy I'm ready jack (well uh huh)
 All you got to say is where them pussy niggas hangin' at (well uh huh)
 Drop it like a maniac (uh huh)
 Set it off by myself (well uh huh)
 Fuck them pussy motherfuckers and who ever else
 Okay baby, you set it off, there will be no more living single
 I'll be ready to tie the knot after we lick them for them blocks
 Grab the glock, and shot out the lot, and keep on bustin'
 Then I'm gone bust in cusin' and leave his punk ass fa' nothing
 Now what's in store for you is 10 g's
 (That's enough for me, I don't give a fat fuck
 what's the fucking hold up?)
 About this time I saw a truck, to a familiar
 K had said them motherfuckers had a truck similiar
 Passengers are him and her, playing some reggae shit
 Two a.k.'s, me and my bitch, one false move we gone spit
 Guess the driver thank he slick, dred head motherfucker
 Guess he most be know my bitch, Rhonda watch them motherfuckers
 That owe 'em money, that what, with K.D. & Chesapeake
 Heard that when he spoke with me and now her folk wanna smoke me
 If he had the keys all I can do now is wonder
 But for now me and Rhonda filling 'em up with the thunder
 

Audio Features

Song Details

Duration
04:30
Key
9
Tempo
151 BPM

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