Lyrics:
nothin, we untouched,
one-hundred percent pure shit, uncut.
(Chorus x2)
Suave House, No Limit soldiers (x8)
(Eightball)
Real playaz,
a tan, but I'm black already
Your pockets on a diet, my pockets fat already
Three niggas with me, me myself and I
God don't like ugly, you should
Foxxx, Bunchy The Fat Bastard, Naughty By Nature and all the real thugs out there
(Who fi broke-broke an who fi rich-rich)
Keep it comin'!
(Outlaw
shit wasn't even cool to me
I dreamt of condos and video vixens
Until I learned most the girls in videos is pigeons
I just wanted the world to see I
that shit fat
That shit fat, yeah
Grab her by the waist and watch that shit fat
Okay I got a couple dogs with nasty dirty paws
I mean i'm a 14 rapper,
flirtin' with shawty, her gluteus fat
She come to my home, I give her the pat
We lyin' in bed, she wanna be fed
We crackin' the crabs like I'm Joe in
trappin
Trappin, trappin
Trappin, trappin
Get on the two wheel, put it three more on
What is that that's like five I'm not a fucking moron
Tryna trap in
But I'm a fool untamed by the children in this game
Tre, go grab them things, we gon' get paid, man
Joe Casey know a nigga wan' buy some things
I
Sometimes you got to look around and soak all this shit in
My nigga you doing great this is just where you begin
And I'll be damned if I sit around and let
Changed up on me, nigga
I could never blame them
Nigga ever play real quick, I'ma shame him
Say he want fight, Baby Joe gon' zip him
Run up on me try me
Look, look
These niggas lied to me way back
Said this was where my buck stop
Ridin' right by in my fly shit
These niggas still at that bus stop
with shit
Gun to lip busting it rusty tip
Trust me lip stick to word
Word is bond
I heard the bomb
Going off my tik is never gonna hit the clock
Im
"Yes, it is I," says me
And all who agree are more than three 'cause they're we
Yes, yo, I'm in the house now for sure
Because I wanna talk about
"Yes, it is I," says me
And all who agree are more than three 'cause they're we
Yes, yo, I'm in the house now for sure
Because I wanna talk about
yo, go by the Jane Doe
Drenched in Polo, chill downtown in Soho
You don't know, this is just half my potential
Check my credentials, come harder than
[ VERSE 1: Lord Finesse ]
I'm real like the Son Of Sam while other are soft like Richie Gun-In-Hand
Their styles is outdated like the _Running Man_
the cooler at the barbeque
And waking up every day with nothing to do
Shit, Kyle works on Wall Street or something
Rob is out growing weed in Cali
and I'm just
catches us, he'll try to kill us
He got a whole army of Kiiers
Me no worry, I got the clapper son
End of the first verse, chapter one
Word
Shit is real in
went, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
It ain't my fault your ass is on the asphalt ('phalt)
Got your chin touched by my fam who though you brought harm, you see
dinero
Like Joe Pesci, Hov' is so deadly
In the middle of the ocean, racin on jet skits (*PYOOM!*)
Get your mind right or get it on your left sleeve
chains, I'm the real P.T
Turn my wrist up to the sun, like, who's he
lost 80 pounds, fuck y'all, I'm healthy
Bitch, bitch, gettin' hit
I'm young, black
suburbs
A civilian shot in 3rd Ward, we just by the fountain
This is Merlyn Wood, man
Everywhere I go is the Woodlands
I need a Honey Butter, vodka in
Ayo dapps run it back
It's 3 am i'm rolling blunts and i'm writing down shit
Where my note at? well fuck it
I'ma jott on my phone
What you said is
booty on duty and represent for the rent
cuz ying yang is dealin this thang
AND WE AINT GOIN NOWHERE!
This shit fo the twurkulators
This shit fo
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