Tekst:
Field Mob

I got all this money in my hand and I'm lookin' at you girl So what you gon' do? Who? Me? I'm Polow Da Don And these my boys they Field Mob let's go

m talkin' 'bout these fuck niggaz thought we just was gone Fell off the motherfuckin' map naw pussy nigga Everybody wanna be country now don't get it fucked up nigga FBI Field

I woke up on Fox found myself starring on Cops Got chased by squad cars and cameras for two blocks I hate the man yea I ran To HBO and stole lethal weapons

daily Weeds no seeds call it Virgin Mary Chevy they say we broke up (Oh, yeah) But we do shows and split ends like blow dried hair Hold up Joe stop the song (What) Field Mob

I'm home, hey, mama Hi, where's Smoke at? He, uh, he had went with this dude named Coach But he left you a letter A letter? Um, uh For real? Yeah Let

You are not alone 'cause I'm going through this thing with you You don't have to cry no more If we make it through this pain, promise I'm gon' keep it

I'm lookin' for a made misses, not one of them lazy chickens But one them on top of her game, paid bitches I lay bitches and slay bitches, fast and free

Damn you done came up short again, ain't uh 'Cause yo homeboy fought again, ain't uh But is you hoe ready for folk to kick in yo door Say that the jackers

You say you got a man at home But he don't dig deep in ya guts and he ain't freaky enough, but me I eat 'em up, beat 'em up then switch sides I eat 'em