Lyrics Labs
G Season Lyrics - Artist : T.I.
Okay
Aye man
I'm sucka free, sucka back until all them suckas get the fuck out my way man
You understand?
G season!

Told you motherfuckers once, prison ain't changed me
All it did was made a nigga crazy, deranged see?
Psycho, nuts so, what I give a fuck for?
All I know now is to get out and go for the gusto
So, fuck niggas, fuck hoes
They said, she said, nigga and what, so?
Fuck what they say 'bout my cases, fuck what they say 'bout my lady
Fuck what they say we were doing on that day of visitation
All I care 'bout is my out date, the scripture of probation
How much dough I'm set to makin', where I'm gon go on vacation
Wait, damn
Okay, that's way too far ahead of me
So I'm just tryna take it day to day if they were never G
3 cop cars by the 3's
Bitches call me Papa John cause I keep that extra cheese
Overseas in the sun, living for the fun
In Milan with some bad bitches, probably want a youngin
What will it done? All the mama done
Ride foreign, comes drawing, getting blown by blunt
I'm the bomb, terrorist, hella rich, record shit
Nigga ask about me, homie I suggest you tell em this

I'm sucka ducking, I'm sucka free
You ain't a G? don't fuck with me
Them sucka niggas out of style, G season
Them sucka niggas out of style, G season

My best flow too cold and jet bring it out
But go to talking crazy though, you get yourself singled out
Half a million bucks to pack the whole arena out
Being a sucka I don't need the first thing about
You get the scene, about to come in at your face
Like a volcano hell, lava running out your face
Hey, if your ass out of place
You done find the weapons they took away, I replaced
What can I say? Another year, another case
Another sentence completed, I'm confident and conceded
I'm sucka free, sucka duck and so tell them suckas to beat it
Don't fuck with me, buster trust me your future will be deleted
Such a G, ain't no touching me, luckily I defeated the all
But out my two alarm glory to god
And I ain't even Islamic, so sick whenever I vomit
Just throw me a mill or two and that ought to settle my stomach
Box of money he done it, call me Mr. He-Run-It
These niggas ain't really bout it,
They just be speaking ebonics
I'm nothing short of iconic
Promise you you don't want it
Strong as gin

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