Throwing Salt - Ponce De'leioun, Iman Shumpert

Me n these niggas is nothin' the same

Wish nigga stop throwing Salt on my name

Broke niggas need someone to blame

Target practice I need somewhere to aim

Bitches & money it come wit the fame

Fly points addin' up on the planes

I’ma dog, so a choker my chain

I’ma dog so a choker my chain

Trappin' late nights out in the rain

Niggas be trippin' don’t know how to act

So I stay with the strap in case I gotta bang

SFOG I’m still reppin' the gang

Money talk & money make niggas change

Last time I pulled up in New York

I came in a Ghost, bro came in a range

Yet I Grew up in back block

Lean to cook and cut a crack rack

Shit I had to sleep wit the roaches n rats

I Ain’t see my future till mask off

These niggas be actin like mascots

They Not real, should be half off

I come from the hills, the shit gimme chills

A nigga was broke, took the cast off

Now my watch got a big face

Look a lil bit like a swimming pool

Gucci my fit, money ain’t shit

These Benjamin’s franks Be identical

Smokin' on gas — chemicals

I trap & I rap — tentacles

Bro bro the plug, he show me love

For years he been wanted by Interpol

Me n these niggas is nothin' the same

Wish nigga stop throwing Salt on my name

Broke niggas need someone to blame

Target practice I need somewhere to aim

Bitches & money it come wit the fame

Fly points addin' up on the planes

I’ma dog, so a choker my chain

Finally feel what a villain is

But fuck the ops I be killin shit

Wit a broken heart & a hynny mix

You kno the type of hoes that the henny get

Been through more than a little bit but I’m not the type that you intimidate

I’m the type to illuminate

If they ever try to eliminate

Got Locked but I beat the case

Don’t worry bout what all these goofies say

Stop thinking these niggas raise the same

Wit a yoga flame on they person

Soul plane with this purple

Hit the ground & we running

Whatever they hold in they weapon

Niggas got a bunch of guns you can’t run from

I’m so Chicago & that sunroof on that tahoo ya

Summertime in Madison it’s bumpin' like a pothole

Training pits with t’shirts

Jumpin' fences less you got one

You can’t run from no shot gun

Niggaaa yaaa

Me n these niggas is nothin the same

Wish nigga stop throwing Salt on my name

Broke niggas need someone to blame

Target practice I need somewhere to aim

Bitches & money it come wit the fame

Fly points addin' up on the planes

I’ma dog, so a choker my chain