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2 p.m. - big sad 1900 lyrics

[intro]
aye tho
talk my sh*t
yea look…

[verse 1]
stomp a n*gga out in the club, i dare he mean mug
7 ounces in a 20 oz, yeah i love the drugs. in court looking mean as f*ck, cuz i hate the judge
n*gga you don’t even got a car, how you the plug?
i be wit yo b*tch getting high off that percocet, never met the b*tch she cashed me out [?]
ion need yo heart, look b*tch i need a rolex, a condo, a benz, a z06 corvette
big choppas n*gga in the field like we huntin
typa n*gga go for it baby i ain’t puntn
ask them b*tches that you be with, i ain’t frontin;
you posting other n*ggas sh*t, n*gga you be bluffing
they gave my n*gga all that time, down in the sucka
ain’t f*cking with no goofy as n*ggas im a hustla
i lost hope, i been broke never been no busta
she can’t even get my d*ck hard, then i won’t touch her

[interlude]
huh…

you know we on that sh*t man, feel me?
ain’t f*ckin with no sucka ass n*ggas…
f*ckin with them b*tches man. b*tches can’t even hold a n*gga down man
better stack that money up n*gga. run that sh*t up n*gga
have that lawyer ready n*gga…
[verse 2]
i’m the hottest out my section, know our rap, know our street sh*t, i need a v12 you can keep that v6
slap a n*gga all in the club over a sneak diss
forgiato’s on everything boy it be bleed sh*t
hit the count jail, call my ion need sh*t
yelling out “move b*tch” just like i’m ludacris
im a boss you seen a [?]
f*ck being broke, i sn*tch a n*gga out his sh*t quick
late nights tipping through the city i ran all lights
was on wit the suckas so we bump heads, we finna fight
n*gga you ain’t instagram trooper, you ain’t got stripes
i’m a die shooting when a n*gga try to take my life
summer ot sippin lean on a private flight
n*ggas always gas these hoes up but i don’t know the hype
ballin on these n*ggas eyes closed n*gga like mike
same n*gga i was up the road you ain’t send the kite

[outro…]

- big sad 1900 lyrics

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