Текст Hodgy Beats – Blame It

Groupie fillies getting run over by the tour bus
Double salad sticky icky like sore up
Me and my drink
Homie what’s in your cup?
A-a-a-a-a-alcohol
A couple sacks, extra fat I bag them all
Swisher packs for the sacks I packed them off
We fly nigga we don’t relax at all
I’m on my genuine: So anxious
Cruising round, drunk, like she know we’re the takers
I can see through the make-up if she trying to fake us
Bring me to the bank but I never go bankrupt
Got my change up though I’ll never change up
I go after my money like a fucking predator
I wake up to the sound of my lovely cash register

Chorus: Hodgy
Every time I see one of them chicken heads, I be like get off me
(Get off me, get off me)
Every time I see them girls in the red, I be like get off me
(Get off me. get off me)
Every time I see them chicken heads, I like, man, get off me
(Get off me!)
‘Cause you’re killing me hard
You’re not killing me softly