Sugar Rush (feat. Kid Dre & Chowder Band$)

Lookin' down low

In the wishin' well, wishin' well

Wish a nigga would

So I wish 'em well, wish 'em well

Lock a nigga up

Like a prison cell, prison cell

Ten toes down, I don't a kiss n' tell (nope)

Lookin' down low

In the wishin' well, wishin' well

Wish a nigga would

So I wish 'em well, wish 'em well

Lock a nigga up

Like a prison cell, prison cell

Ten toes down, I don't kiss n' tell (fuck no)

Fuck your new pack, better hit the sack

How your bars cheesy, but somehow you still forgot the MAC

I'm the Big Mac, but hold the ketchup

Lost in the sauce, make you think your special

I was kicking shit, like a kid in the womb

Applying that pressure, the bitches in bloom

The bloom is the flower, I am in my element

Blockin' my shine, you niggas is negative

Niggas is sensitive, no one competitive

Thoughts full, like my closet with skeletons

Close to my relatives, takin' Excedrin

Attention on me in the room like an elephant

I am the best of it, stuck on my preferences

Hatin' you niggas I guess I'm conservative

Don't know what murder is, but I'm still killin' this

And the executive's, takin' my ownership, yeah

Lookin' down low

In the wishin' well, wishin' well

Wish a nigga would

So I wish 'em well, wish 'em well

Lock a nigga up

Like a prison cell, prison cell

Ten toes down, I don't kiss n' tell (nope)

Lookin' down low

In the wishin' well, wishin' well

Wish a nigga would

So I wish 'em well, wish 'em well

Lock a nigga up

Like a prison cell, prison cell

Ten toes down, I don't kiss n' tell (fuck no)

Nigga, stop it

I been makin' plays like a nigga named Klay Thompson

Watch ya walkin, I ain't beefin' 'bout shit ('bout what?)

But a nigga got sticks

Thirty Glocks to match my fits

Thirty shots in different whips

It pay the cost to be legit

It pay the cost to be this lit

Band man, bad man, bad bitches all around me, what the fuck I do?

You come up nigga, now they stuck on you

And they ain't really even fuck with you

I pull it out and she gon' suck it too

Too fast, steppin' on the gas

If we gon' run it, he gon' come in last

Gucci fuckin' tags stuffed in Louis bags (in my bag, aye)

And a nigga poppin' tags (and a what?)

I'ma skirt off in a Jag, yeah, this shit fast, shit can never lag (it can't lag nigga)

And a nigga got the swag, first name Charles, last name Braggs

Real band man shit, young nigga goin' in I can't last

And I'm really of a perc, talkin' 'bout 30

I'ma shoot shots, talkin' 'bout. 40

Young nigga poppin', I'ma get more, aye

And I fuck on your whore, aye

And I'll leave that lil' bitch at the door, aye

Leave her beggin' for more

I'm that young nigga catchin' scores, catchin' plates (open a bag of chips)

Y'all niggas is doing the most, oh

Yeah, you need it come holler at me

But you gotta throw a dollar at me

Baby girl call me Pop but I am not your daddy

You need to fall back from calling me

Everytime you say you need me man you're stalling me

You're so motherfucking lame hoe

You need to stay up in your lane hoe

Ay, I'ma stick in my mothefuckin' lane, uh

Yo, yo, yo, yo, shut the fuck up man

Shut up, don't do that shit, shut your ass up