Lyrics:
down the road
Right by the ocean
I got bitches (swag) on my toes (Dre)
(Pretty boy swag) Pretty boy swagging on
You fucking hoes (I do this)
This one for
Cause the streets aint where it is, foreal
(Rxnel Verse I)
Face gated I aint gotta tell ‘em
Who I is
Drive-by’s, look
We aint catching Ubers here
Aye…
"Bigger Picture"
[Cam'Ron]
Killa, Uh Huh
Heatmakerz,Yes Sir
Jones, Santana, Freekey, The Union
Holla At Da Boys Man Uh Huh
This Is Diplomat Records
Some think they close to seeing me
Tell em they close to Stevie
You poser niggas ain't supposed to be here
We don't believe ya.
Double MG'er, we put
Soulja Boy Tell 'Em hopped up out the bed turn my swag on
Took a look in the mirror said what's up
Yeah I'm getting money oh
Hopped up out
I got Hood ass homies
Been toting the glocks
And they gone shoot 'til I tell em to stop
Bitch, I been a Hot Boy so the
Cold don't fect me
I'm from New Orleans
Trillville getting wild in this bizzitch
[Chorus]
We hit the club, deep as fuck, hate them boys, lets make 'em jump
And the crowd, they actin up, ready
Trillville getting wild in this bizzitch
[Chorus]
We hit the club, deep as fuck, hate them boys, lets make 'em jump
And the crowd, they actin up, ready
right on top of me
Pilf my way to the lottery
I'd say on God, no stopping me
Can't stop a G, cuz honestly
Dem lad try body me got bodied
Tell em, tell em
Like broke to me still exist
But you know what?
..God slapped me with a gift
I’d double down on the clique
We Souljas.. yea
Yea I say you know what
(Uh)
We came here to get it crunk like jump
In the club with our middle fingers up like jump
Now, we gonna make ?em stomp like jump
Niggas get out of line
and his eyes bright blue
So called beef with you-know-who
Fuck it, he just let em kill all of our troops
Look at the bullshit we been through
Had our
that follow me
And you know, Westside, right on time
Tell 'em hoes kudos eastside, right on time
They don't fuck with you though
When my hood getting
where he stand, we live by law and we gon' lay it down
Tell me he want smoke, 187, that's that same shit
.357 send you to heaven, knock out your brain
babyface by walking up, he walk out wit a limp
I need a couple racks up out this game that money feeling dim
I'm in to win, get up in that water, boy you
Now break his legs, arms, neck (yea).
[Chorus]
(Soulja boy tell em)
(S.O.D. money gang entertainment)
(I present to you the show stoppas)
(When
Ha ha ha ha, there's a new sheriff in town, by the name of Raw, Cowboy Raw, and he's here
to make you move your boots, from side to side, let's go
I
get em
Shoot!
Let me get em
Nah shootout ayye, nah shootout ayyee, nah shootout ayyee, nah shootout ayyee
(soulja boy tell em)
[verse 1:]
Its
playin' until they see your ass go pro
Houdain
Soulja Soulja Yeah, yeah, hey, yeah
It's a whole new quarter get em fined he ain't showin' love
I had merch
For these are the times
You either crank that Soulja boy
Or that Soulja boy cranks you
Said shut the fuck, aye
Money moves only moves I make hoe
don't put your faith in no man never trust these hoes, how the f*ck you say you gone ride b*tch you ain't never rode, Soulja life b*tch that's the comity
fuckin' with the right one, soulja fo life one
ain't no mothafucka like em
where he at, show em to me
and I'm gonna strike em and bite em
and swallow em
Boy your check ain't big enough (big enough)
Talk a lot but you're broke (broke!)
Switcheroo fuck and you're kissing (kissing)
Y'all niggas give 'em
space on top of astroids
Comin' to rip up the shore
We killin' the fool
So act a fool boy
Chorus x4
Stomp motherfucker, stomp motherfucker, stomp
(lay
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