Mo Better Cool (feat. Devin the Dude, Big Sant & Bun B)

Glisten like the sun off the candy

Got-, got the toolie in the dash, keep it handy

Jammin' up and down the boulevard, swing

Trunk still bangin', screens still hangin'

Old habits die hard, ain't shit changed

Boy will still recline, still swing and bang

Grippin' wood grain, grain, grain

Grippin' wood grain, grain, grain, grain

I remember when I used to roll

A bucket, no ducat to my name and my soul

Hoes used to front everywhere I go

But that's cool

Yeah, shit changed 'cause we on

Now I'm tailor made, choppin' blades that I'm grown

Now them same hoes won't leave me alone

But that's cool

So now usually I don't boast to brag

But today different, went from bucket brake scrapin' to swinging like Kenny Griffin

I was scrawny than a motherfucker

When I was younger, got my weight up like a Juggernaut

I'm solid with these numbers

Maxin' out on these hoes

Marinated my pimpin' 'cause when you season, they peepin'

And scrape it right out the skin

Got a vision for fix, drop it low like the bass

Her pussy tighter than pliers that squeeze the wine outta grapes

So I hit it slow

Flea flicker, give and go

I know that the shine the only reason she kick it for

I went from not a thing to the Caddy frame

Throw it off in the game

When you came and you got changed

Shit can't be the same

So I'm chillin', bump and grillin'

Hollerin' out for the feelings of critics

That claim they come from the slum but they from a village, for real

'Cause while these lames sittin' still I hit the road

Broke the mold and came up on a mill

I remember when I used to roll

A bucket, no ducat to my name and my soul

Hoes used to front everywhere I go

But that's cool

Yeah, shit changed 'cause we on

Now I'm tailor made, choppin' blades that I'm grown

Now them same hoes won't leave me alone

But that's cool

Man, I was a wild motherfucker back when I was round twenty

Fuck ****, no, you wouldn't find me round any

Rollin' one deep in the Buick, Park Ave

With a sawed off shotgun that cut your ass in half

Laughin' at these **** that was hatin' on the low

'Cause on the cool, I was puttin' dick off in they ho

And on the cut, you couldn't short stop me for the blow

'Cause I be with the pistol knockin' on your front door

See, where I come from, you can't just tell me that you hard

****'ll come and box you up in your front yard

Better not talk about pullin' out the gat

'Cause on site we put that nine mili to your hat

Now, as I got older, my rep got colder

These **** wouldn't dare to knock the chip up off my shoulder

Certified soldier with the stripes that'll prove it

I got my reputation in the streets, fuck the music

I remember when I used to roll

A bucket, no ducat to my name and my soul

Hoes used to front everywhere I go

But that's cool

Yeah, shit changed 'cause we on

Now I'm tailor made, choppin' blades that I'm grown

Now them same hoes won't leave me alone

But that's cool

Yeah, reporting live from the ceiling

Enjoy the view, bitch

Show gon' make a killin'

Ain't nothin' new, bitch

Except the pressure from the heckler, checkin' from the nose bleeds

Ho please, I can't even see you from our close seat

The boy came to play, and no, this ain't a game

Dunkin', trunkin', pumpin', punkin', colored gators, mayne, hold up

This win is on us

It's a celebration, bitch, every time I show up

Get in the way, get swole up

That's no luck for anyone tryna outshine us

Plenty of haters that couldn't get haters are heard steppin' behind us

Better catch on to our coattails, I boast well till I shit talk

That bullshit, we don't rip walk

Cripple their chances, cripple advances, stickin' the landin'

That I jumped up off the porch with

Feelin' as old as I'm gon' get

Respect that'll get your dome split

And on it I stay, no reprieve for no punk

Consider you ship sunk

I'm just bein' Big Sant, bitch

Glisten like the sun off the candy

Got-, got the toolie in the dash, keep it handy

Jammin' up and down the boulevard, swing

Trunk still bangin', screens still hangin'

Old habits die hard, ain't shit changed

Boy will still recline, still swing and bang

Grippin' wood grain, grain, grain

Grippin' wood grain, grain, grain, grain