Starlito For My Foes Lyrics
For My Foes by Starlito
[Intro]
It was 4th & Goal and I was on the 4
Down by four and I'm on a 4
A four bar, that's two goal posts
[Verse]
Literally, I'm in the game
Blowing 'dro on some Boosie shit, playing Madden and getting brain
She throw it back like a lateral, my homie, he's the Eagles
I picked the Vikings because the Audemars is purp and she's a people eater
Sipping on that Brett Favre
It's my fourth cup, leaning extra hard
I can't find my keys, my ID, or my check card
Bless my heart
Got this big bankroll and this pistol though
I fell asleep, he took my keys, they say he at the liqour store
By midnight, I blacked out, well, purped out, on the flo'
Woke up before my show, gotta get this money mane, leggo
This bitch done called me 44 times, I'm startin to think she's slow
She left the club by 3, I kicked her out by 4
Copped the 'dro by the 4 (quarter-pound)
Copped the 'gars from the sto' (fo-sho)
Drop the top, drive slow
Might stop to holla at ya ho (helllllo)
Big bales of mid and they duct taped up
Niggas talkin shit, then see them shooters and wanna make-up
They might have been, but bitchass nigga you ain't tough
You been hatin since day one, mad because I came up
I'm talking back in '04, when a half an O was 4
And we was taxing for the jar, so that was crack or for the 'dro
For the 14, 4 for 140, but I really want 40 for an Orleans
Used to sell the pints for the 4, then my bitch quit at the pharmacy
What you mad at me for? It's based on what they charge me, (I'm sorry)
.40 cal for my 30 foes, extended clip, no scope, what for? Up close
You gon' be dead, I'm gon' be mad like "You fucked up my clothes."
Then I'mma fuck around and waste four mo' bullets to shoot yo' ass some mo'
Four more times, got four more lines: the golden rules
Rule #1 No dick-ridin', rule #2 No more lying, rule #3 Pay me on time
Last but not least, Rule #4 stay the fuck up outta mine
Got all that? We should be fine
It was 4th & Goal and I was on the 4
Down by four and I'm on a 4
A four bar, that's two goal posts
[Verse]
Literally, I'm in the game
Blowing 'dro on some Boosie shit, playing Madden and getting brain
She throw it back like a lateral, my homie, he's the Eagles
I picked the Vikings because the Audemars is purp and she's a people eater
Sipping on that Brett Favre
It's my fourth cup, leaning extra hard
I can't find my keys, my ID, or my check card
Bless my heart
Got this big bankroll and this pistol though
I fell asleep, he took my keys, they say he at the liqour store
By midnight, I blacked out, well, purped out, on the flo'
Woke up before my show, gotta get this money mane, leggo
This bitch done called me 44 times, I'm startin to think she's slow
She left the club by 3, I kicked her out by 4
Copped the 'dro by the 4 (quarter-pound)
Copped the 'gars from the sto' (fo-sho)
Drop the top, drive slow
Might stop to holla at ya ho (helllllo)
Big bales of mid and they duct taped up
Niggas talkin shit, then see them shooters and wanna make-up
They might have been, but bitchass nigga you ain't tough
You been hatin since day one, mad because I came up
I'm talking back in '04, when a half an O was 4
And we was taxing for the jar, so that was crack or for the 'dro
For the 14, 4 for 140, but I really want 40 for an Orleans
Used to sell the pints for the 4, then my bitch quit at the pharmacy
What you mad at me for? It's based on what they charge me, (I'm sorry)
.40 cal for my 30 foes, extended clip, no scope, what for? Up close
You gon' be dead, I'm gon' be mad like "You fucked up my clothes."
Then I'mma fuck around and waste four mo' bullets to shoot yo' ass some mo'
Four more times, got four more lines: the golden rules
Rule #1 No dick-ridin', rule #2 No more lying, rule #3 Pay me on time
Last but not least, Rule #4 stay the fuck up outta mine
Got all that? We should be fine