Lyrics:
then you could leave
You ain't no V.I.P
Stop gassing yourself, like BP
My pockets obese so
Shorty gon' pull up on me
She know I stay with the tree
I
you the number one draft
In the league now?
Ride down ya block, doors 12 o'clock
Lambo, the drop, bike niggas
Ain't stoppin' for a cop (Nigga)
I got
what it is or how it is
Motherfuckers want to act now
Keep toast by the waist now
Got a block full of crack now
Still got to hold the hood down
Yeah, yeah, yeah
I'm taking four strands of your hair
And a five dollar bill
Gonna put 'em in a letter
And drop 'em in the mail
Gonna send 'em
me the drop I'm coming slide
Niggas gangster on the gram but in real life them niggas hiding
And imma get back free lil' tweety if that Glock stay by
the Jordans with it
Rich gang like I'm Baby, might pull them racks, I have to show a nigga
Three-five of the opp pack up in the 'Wood, don't even fuck with
alarmed if we start to drop a bomb
[GPM] Drop a bomb
[Kid] Drop a bomb like some shit in Vietnam
[GPM] Prepare yourself, cause here we come, if you ready
bury me under
Big pipes soundin like thunder
Skated by the skin of my teeth, I had to put a man in his place last week
Now why you want to come at me?
I ever get the drop you gon fall harder
Got a sword on the chop I’ll en garde ya
Came along way from just a armed robber
Why finesse em out the pack
de lase when managing my time
Seven O'clock We in drop the top
We cruise the streets like Usher
Cubby hole hold a lil something for the Zaf
Can't be
nizzle, you gon' get hizzle
Relax by the kizzle
An' go get us a couple hizzles
You dizzles
Yeah with Muggs
What it is
Sen Dog!
Keep it real gangster
the club
We throwed them hunnids not no ones
Throwing them hunnids we fuck them
Whole by the firm
Step in the club
Pocket full of hundred, no ones
Choppa
on the slip
Pack a double m or a pistol grip
Robbin muthafuckas to stay alive
Cause in the ghetto only the strong survive
And O.G.'s, they can tell when
years
Never planning on it
Maybe three five beers
And a can of chronic
Have you lay strait back
Like its Anatomic
Have you drop that pack
Like a pan
V12 is roaring,
Flying through the city with the pedal to the floor then,
I put them 26 inches on the curb, tell the hood I'm back,
Give me a corner,
mobile)
Look at the grill
Old grill smile, wiling out up in the VIP
The club close at five 'o'clock, we pulling up around three
Wood grain, wheel
of my '86 Pontiac
Afrodisiac, spanish fly in your drink
By 10 o'clock at night I'll be fuckin you on the sink
I can tell you're cummin by the way you
in oceans
Motion sickness, I overdid all my finesse pack
Multidecker, new refreshment, lesson from jet snacks
My momma wisdom, my competition is
it I got it then shot it it's hot up in your dome
Peace with the chrome piece that I pack
Remember fuck around and catch a Mack to your back
Who
Hahahaha
We got a bag full of bullets in this bitch with no name on them
You know what I'm saying
When you been hit by the bitch
You know it was ment
your my rock star Shorty
Here's my number shit, you don't gotta to call me
Shorty
[Chorus: x2]
I'm chilling in my 4.6, at the light
5 o'clock in
a thousand deaths when I drop ya
I feel for you like Chaka Khan I'm the don
Make niggas talk through the wire like Kan
A trip to the morgue turn a duck
of broken rocks
Whether heard in herb spots, jukebox or malt shops
Uncut live, drop eighty-five, in one shot
Spotlight hits the metal mic, majority stare
of broken rocks
Whether heard in herb spots, jukebox or malt shops
Uncut live, drop eighty-five, in one shot
Spotlight hits the metal mic, majority stare
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