Help Me, Rhonda

K had called and gave me the word

Said this nigga had ten birds, in Augusta for the week

From the islands

As soon as K told me this shit, I started smiling

Cause all I could see was money piling

Shit, on top of money

Now, K chillin with some money for the week, and Chesapeake

The heat made my nigga take a break

If I could catch all 10 of them bitches, and I don't look suspicious

I'ma sell the fucking quart for the eight the ha ha

As I told K bye bye, he shot me advice

If you gone do it nigga do it nigga, fuck thinking twice

This is the lick of a life

Go fight 'em fire for fire

Hit my hip when you finish said his calling card expired

Hung up the phone, contemplating on who help me do it

There's Kia and Jessica and then Rhonda truitt

Now Jessica to stupid and Kia lie to much,

I guess I'll take Rhonda, cause Rhonda don't give a fuck

But first I got to pump her up

I'ma throw what, 10 g's

Tell her if she really love me she would do this for me

Eternally we'll be together for better or for worse

But first we got to take these niggas to the hurt

Burst in they shit, get the bricks come back out

I'm be waiting in the chevy, you know I'm ready to take em' out

If they front 'cha baby, come on, we make it we rich

Come on, shit, Rhonda, my down ass bitch

I'm the realist bitch

I'm mo' realer than reality

Fuck that dumb shit, it take nothing to a casualty

Well I'm the realist bitch

I'm mo realer than reality (well uh huh)

Fuck that dumb shit (uh huh)

It take nothing to a casualty (what)

FBI be after me, quareter ki in my womanly (uh huh)

Coming back from St. Croix

First lady to Pastor Troy (well come on)

Even I'm a Georgia Boy, cause boy I'm ready jack (well uh huh)

All you got to say is where them pussy niggas hangin' at (well uh huh)

Drop it like a maniac (uh huh)

Set it off by myself (well uh huh)

Fuck them pussy motherfuckers and who ever else

Okay baby, you set it off, there will be no more living single

I'll be ready to tie the knot after we lick them for them blocks

Grab the glock, and shot out the lot, and keep on bustin'

Then I'm gone bust in cusin' and leave his punk ass fa' nothing

Now what's in store for you is 10 g's

(That's enough for me, I don't give a fat fuck

what's the fucking hold up?)

About this time I saw a truck, to a familiar

K had said them motherfuckers had a truck similiar

Passengers are him and her, playing some reggae shit

Two a.k.'s, me and my bitch, one false move we gone spit

Guess the driver thank he slick, dred head motherfucker

Guess he most be know my bitch, Rhonda watch them motherfuckers

That owe 'em money, that what, with K.D. & Chesapeake

Heard that when he spoke with me and now her folk wanna smoke me

If he had the keys all I can do now is wonder

But for now me and Rhonda filling 'em up with the thunder