Correction Lyrics Friday Night Cypher by Styles P

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Lyrics

Ayy, ayy, ayy
Ayy, ayy, ayy
(Hit-Boy)
Ayy, this that Clipse sample, ayy (G. Ry got me)
f**k that talkin', let the clip slam 'em

Yellow bands around them hundreds, you know how much that is (Tens)
Too much to give me cash, they had to wire me the backend (Send it)
n***as in here lookin' tough, you know that I got mag in (What?)
Ask me am I only rappin', you know I got that bag in (You see it)
Bandman like Lonnie (Lonnie), want my head? Come find me (Come get it)
Lil' bro in that b*t*h chillin', he ain't tryna come home c*cky (He chillin')
He comin' home to a dollar (Dollar), and a mansion and a chopper (What else?)
In the desert on a dirt bike (Skrrt), VLONE shirt and the Pradas (Fresh)
Big n***a fresher than you, f**k you and your stylist (Woah)
Paid ninety for my grill, then lost it, that's why I ain't smilin' (Damn)
You got Sean, you got Hit, you got Grizz
Kash Doll'll paint you red, throw you in the water, they gon' think you a lobster, n***a
Gang (Uh)

I just dropped a kit, you dropped out of school
These hoes wanna be famous 'til they make the news
All my b*t*hes winnin', how it feel to lose?
n***a tryna get the box like he finna move
b*t*h, I'm at my pinnacle, I used to shop at Pinnacle
Your n***a still drink Pinnacle, b*t*h, your taste is pitiful
I talk cash sh*t, you ain't cash sh*t
Call up Baby Choppa, Cash Kidd, and spend my cash, kid
You stay back like adlibs, I buy, I don't ask sh*t
I pop sh*t and pop tags, b*t*h, this new era be cappin', uh
Me, Sean, Tee off that Pusha T, ain't no pushin' me
Bro might put you on a tee, dot my I's and cross my T's
Bro might put you six feet or bro gon' put you on your feet
But bro can't put you onto me
A-plus pu**y worth a B, n***a, uh
You n***as ain't worth no B, f**k outta here

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