Wheel Of Fortune (feat. Icewear Vezzo)

(Ooh, I love TAXFREE)
 ShittyBoyz
 On the road for thirty days and thirty nights
 Enough punches through this bitch, to win thirty fights
 Circled on the opp block, we hit thirty rights
 Looking at my future like you staring up at thirty lights
 Don't ask what's in the cup, don't you see me with the Drank God?
 Don't ask do it hit, don't you see me with the Punch God?
 Tapped in, get a nigga touched like a iPod
 She wanna make a movie, set the cam on the tripod
 Punching like a black belt, I'm a card master
 Emotionless, I'll leave a bitch heart shattered
 Good cappage on the 'Gram, you're a star actor
 In store with fire, bitch, I'm flaming like I'm Charmander
 Yeah, pop a school bus, I'm a bar master
 Big chop that'll knock a nigga car backwards
 Two beams on a Glock like car hazards
 Drank God, bitch, I'm balling like March Madness
 With all this energy, boy must be Duracell
 For all the grannies that I jugged, I might burn in Hell
 Brought the slides in store, that's the burning smell
 Come and get this Fraud Bible, boy, it's working well
 No cap, this BIN gon' put my niggas all on
 She ain't sucking dick? She should spin and send her ass home
 Scam master, I can't wait till Apple drop them iPhones
 She a real freak, she don't do it with the lights on
 Game sliders cranked up, I done found the glitch
 D1 with the punch work, come and scout the kid
 In BOA acting bad, boy, I'm counting slips
 Life jacket underneath the fit, I might drown in drip
 So much water on my neck, I might drown the bitch
 Greyhound, only time that I hound a bitch
 Finna do a turn around for right now and a six
 What's that stanking in my pocket? A pile of shit
 Money on the floor, I'm spinning hoes like the Wheel of Fortune
 Spikes on my toes, you a crumb, boy, you still in Jordans
 What you paid for yo fit was my bill in Morton's
 Even when I'm six feet deep but I'm still important
 You ain't getting money, you just be where the rappers be
 I better not catch you lame-ass niggas where the bitches be
 I ain't got a heart, I just like to wear it on my tee
 Middle finger to them lame niggas that ever doubted me
 Feel like Lil Tecca, I just held an opp for ransom
 Grabbed the jacks and disappeared, I am not a phantom
 SB blasting off, boy, yo rocket landing
 Pull up like I'm Stone Cold, let the choppa slam him
 Think I'm shooting videos, how I'm copping cannons
 Finna pour the Hi-Tech, hold the Wock' for ransom
 I don't be fucking with no rats, niggas hot as Tampa
 Me and Jefe dropped a eighth in a drop of Fanta, bitch
 Drank God