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the joint committee (squay & cvg) - sauce lyrics

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[chorus: squay]
sauce, drippin’ off me
like spaghetti i’m official
yopper choppers in the car
i ain’t worried bout ya pistol

keep a b-tch outside my business
keep a b-tch inside the bentley
l1ck the b-tch and let her finish
caught her friends, they lookin friendly

tell em that we’ll be alright
tell em that we gon be straight
tell em i been real for so long
that i forgot how to be fake

tell em that we’ll be alright
tell em that we gon straight
i been stacking my cake
bout to take me a vacay

[verse 1: squay]
keep it on the low on the midget
choppin bricks on the chopping board in the kitchen
i got 50,000 dollars in my britches
if the hustle not broke don’t fix it

imma start saving up for a kidney
word to pimp c i been sippin simply
i’m eatin good and i seen you at the blimpie
catch me way up in the air where the blimps be

still sleepin in the trap
sleepin in a sleeping bag with a strap
knock knock man them folks need a sack
marathon money man i just ran through the pack

i make nothing into something, i make something out of nothing
f-ckin’ with the b-tch and then i’m f-ckin with her buddy
this is far from what you want like a p-ssy when it’s bl–dy
like a b-tch when she chubby and you know that p-ssy guppie

whoa, cap somethin’
put the skin on the chicken and go wrap something
finger on the trigger, go clap something
thumbin’ through the racks, go stack something

the feds can’t find me, i’m in san diego
f-ckin’ on carmen for a pretty peso
ridin’ through the hood and i’m sippin’ a faygo
take it from the bay and put it in clayco

i take away your bae and she do what i say so
nutted on her head and i gave her a halo
they comin’ for me boy you know i don’t chase hoes
sippin’ raw and now i feel like fabo

double cup it up, two straps with bucks
got a couple ducks, i’m bout to split em up
wrap it up and sell em, wrap it up and mail em
better check your man, ’cause he f-ckin’ tellin’

[chorus]

[verse 2: cvg]
whoa, i done growed up, or ran up a check for a little bit
like i laundered the dope money, lemonade as a little kid
now i watch as them folks go blind in they eyes when my bezel hit
drippin’ sauce with my slimes, at the scene of the crime where they met the kid

every one of us racked up, we ain’t sharin’ joints, no way
rollin’ up a little half gram, get the f-ck outta my face
you reserving hoes, it’s just code, ’cause we know they gon get saved
b-tch steady talking bout a mess, call the motherf-ckin maids

thought i told you bout the work
my girl gon help me how to move it
stash the shooter in her purse
bet she ready when she use it

callin’ up my po
just to let em know i’m out the country
breakin’ it down by the o
just to give them they motherf-ckin money

best with the booms like the taliban
h-lla that green, i got salad bands
step in the bank with the pack on me
f-ck wells fargo, they ain’t bout it man

blue faces
got ya hoe lookin’ at me with the slanty eyes, asian
toppin’ me off in the whip and she l1ckin’ the sauce like i’m cajun

[chorus]



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