Yeah, yeah

Cut it, cut it, cut it, cut it
Cut it, cut it, cut it, cut it
Them bricks is way too hot, you need to cut it
Your price is way too high, you need to cut it
Cut it, cut it, cut it, cut it
Cut it, cut it, cut it, cut it
Them bricks is way too hot, you need to cut it
Your price is way too high, you need to cut it

Run up them bands on the regular (cash)
Hittin' my plug on the celly, yeah
Tell my ex bitch that I'm sorry (my bad)
I'ma skate off in the 'Rari
Keep 36 by my side (my side)
Imma go bake me a pie
Keep 45 on my side
Fuck with my niggas, you die
All of my niggas say blood
All of my niggas say cuz (yeah)
OT, I found me a plug
I got it straight out the mud
Keep it a hundred, no bullsh-
I fell in love with the drugs
Bustin' it down in the tub (coke)
Pay me my money in dubs
Water whippin', lookin' like I'm fishin'
Baseball in kitchen, with my arm I'm pitchin'
Rolie on, it's glistenin', and my darling, kissin'
Niggas steady trippin' so I'm steady grippin'
Dirty money on me, got a scale up on me
I don't fuck with phony, 'bout to sell a pony
All these niggas on me, all these bitches on me
Say my price is good, motherfucker, show me

Cut it, cut it, cut it, cut it
Cut it, cut it, cut it, cut it
Them bricks is way too hot, you need to cut it
Your price is way too high, you need to cut it
Cut it, cut it, cut it, cut it
Cut it, cut it, cut it, cut it
Them bricks is way too hot, you need to cut it
Your price is way too high, you need to cut it

Went and bought a nine-eleven with my trap money
A million up but still ain't never touch my rap money
I'm out in LA fuckin' with that boy OT (what's poppin'?)
Flew to LA, got a plug on that OG
You know I've been gettin' money if you know me (you know that)
When I first met my plug, I told him I piss a hundred Gs (what?)
I ain't comin' to get it unless you got a hundred piece
I don't want it, fuck it, your price, you need to cut it
Your ice, you need to tuck it, she fuck with me, she lucky
A half a million, all 20s in that Gucci luggage
Let's skip the small talk, it's time to talk numbers
Young nigga playin' with commas, might go get a Lamb' for the summer
I've been outchea in these streets all my life hustlin' (fo' real)
My nigga beefin' then I'm beefin', wrong or right I'm bustin'
My traphouse, I love it (I love it)
Put some Forgis on my old school and I had to gut it (what?)
But should I put a roof in?

Cut it, cut it, cut it, cut it
Cut it, cut it, cut it, cut it
Them bricks is way too hot, you need to cut it
Your price is way too high, you need to cut it
Cut it, cut it, cut it, cut it
Cut it, cut it, cut it, cut it
Them bricks is way too hot, you need to cut it
Your price is way too high, you need to cut it Writer/s: Adolph Thornton, Montre Edmonds, Odis Flores
Publisher: EMPIRE PUBLISHING, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Songtrust Ave, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, THE ADMINISTRATION MP INC, The Administration MP, Inc.
Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind