Lyrics:
of a kind
I’m a player
Got on five rings
On my Kobe Bryant
Kobe Bryant
On my Kobe Bryant
On my Kobe Bryant
Ima shine I wont pass the ball
On my Kobe
suits and ties
Turnin wrenches kinda guys
You can bet your ass by 5
We’re all one of a kind
From a front porch to a barstool,
A tailgate to a church
lawn mowers.
Say dutch time, roll up it's clutch time,
and I burn mine, don't you ever ever touch mine.
Fire it up dog, but watch out for 5-0.
Eyes
One day imma buy a yard by the lake
Never had a G teach me how to be one
Looking at the scoreboard and it's 3-1
You an Angel but you living like a demon
wanna come test me,
Yup, come to my city, that's where I be
I ride all in the hood in my new Bentley wit my ass sit on jag
I don't give a fuck (what?!)
Nigga you can drive a Bentley if only in your mind
Four doors, leather and wood
Ride like I got a horse stable under my hood
And I keep a chrome fo'five
it on
You play ball and you think you Lebron
You might spend 5 days picking a song
By then i’m on a racetrack winning along
I’m doing it right
the county
Shhh
I got surveillance around me
Took me as a lick 'til the family surrounded
Hating ass niggas still baller blocking
I'm at the 5 like Tristan
the "Godfather Buried Alive"
Ayo Po it's the Ill Na Na stuntin' in 5.0
Went to Brooklyn with the Rugers out
In Flatbush and I keeps the Kiki poppin' off when
Hope there ain't no 5-0 out tonight
'Cause I'm about run this towns red lights
Every second we're in it those minutes are flying by
Girl, I don't
L.A.X. around six
I scootch you through the hood, then we gone get up in these tricks
It's Friday night
Two players in a black 5-0-0
Slidin' down
the 5-0-0
On the way to the cribo
So, how you live?
I had to ask my man Biv
Uhm hmm
Looking kind of positive
Easily you can be left alone
Tighten it
business plans and Champagne
Television money hit a little different
Check for two episodes bought me 5 Bentleys
Television money hit a little different
platinum
Back to the basics
You in danger at 16 with the beam
One in the chamber aimed at that 0 7
Got the chopper close by
Head bussa from the Bronx
missin
U ain’t here ya body dey won’t find it
U ain’t no where near n 5 0 dey blinded
So ain’t crime scene investigation forensic science shit
In My Hood
out here trappin
When you really grocery baggin
And whippin a station wagon
What?
You think you goin toe to toe with me?
Im shootin 5.56 and the .223
I
eleven, ten, nine)
(Ignition sequence start)
(Six, five, four, three, two, one)
(Zero, all engine running)
(Lift off, we have a liftoff)
Now we gon',
It's the 5 1 0
Gotta love the bay nice weather good hay
I'm from the O A K
City where I'm from 35th where I stayed
C A L I
Cali aka the golden state
from the D, or the 3-0 to the 5th
Put your hands up, stand up if you feeling this shit
I only know it if your hands in the air
Waving side to the side
to scene kids
Who've already seen it
And by it, I mean everything happenin
Your hundred million dollar turd starring hugh jackman
Right now I'd be drunk if I
smoking me
I pray to my guap every week
This car got 5 Zeros and you know it aint leased
She said I look good man I feel like adonis
We aint smoking no
to do a five shots, it was only fun
Homicide came by, I was on a run
And when shit got hot, we let off a drum
I did everything under the sun
I walk
On ma momma I'll get rich
Buy a house up in the hills
Buy a foreign beast some G class shit some Fucken AMG
Rock designer Louis V
Private chef from
we 'bout that money and we stackin' like books nigga
Know what I do nigga, them teardrops is true nigga
We stay so fly, ride Bentley coupes nigga
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