Numbers

Yeah

Thugger Thugger

Got my broadie London in this motherfucker man

I'm tell ya this beat, hard

This one hard as fuck, listen bro, uh

I go up, up, up and away

And I got old hundreds

They wrinkled like a Shar Pei

Plus I'm the realest **** inside the A

What

And them boys in Atlanta they don't play, yeah

And them boys from Atlanta, tote them K's, yeah

And them boys from Atlanta got bananas for these monkey ****

I got plenty ammo for your bumblin' ****

Ammo for these pussy motherfuckers

Run up I swear to God I want tears from your mother

Fuck **** tripping I'll get prison and fuck your father (What?)

I'ma tell 'em one time, they ain't going farther

I'm doing numbers

I got bands in the bando

And I'm beating David Banner

And I'm smoking on Cubanos

Leanin', movin' slow as grandma

Motor runnin', spent them commas, now it's thunder (What)

Count a hundred on a hundred more, that's hunger (Hunger)

Yeah baby, Thugger Thugger hungry, yes I'm hungry

Young Thugger got the munchies (Yo!)

All my diamonds come in yellow like a Funyun

Yeah all my gold made 'em sick and they can vomit

Blah

Yeah yeah

Pussy **** know they can vomit

I'm growing green me and Chi-Chi, no pet

But I'm chasing dreams, free Meek Milly

And them boys in Atlanta they don't play, yeah

And them boys from Atlanta, tote them K's, yeah

And them boys from Atlanta got bananas for these monkey ****

I got plenty ammo for your bumblin' ****

Ammo for these pussy motherfuckers

Run up I swear to God I want tears from your mother

Fuck **** tripping I get prison and fuck your father (What?)

I'ma tell 'em one time, they ain't going farther

I'm doing numbers

I'ma tell 'em one time

(Swag, swag, swag, swag)

I can read your mind

Pop, pop, pop, pop, bitch gon' run

Brand new 24s bitch on climb

You's a busta, motherfuck rhymes

No sticky fingers, no porcupine

Genius I'll chase the day

Wait, let me pick up his remains

Hey, let them gators get their prey

Hold up hold up, wait

And them boys in Atlanta they don't play, yeah

And them boys from Atlanta, tote them K's, yeah

And them boys from Atlanta got bananas for these monkey ****

I got plenty ammo for your bumblin' ****

Ammo for these pussy motherfuckers

Run up I swear to God I want tears from your mother

Fuck **** tripping I get prison and fuck your father

I'ma tell 'em one time, ain't going farther

I'm doing numbers