Lyrics:
trees
Rap is for dick suckers and
Divas I don't recall these
Type of niggas living and breathing
But I reside that
Eastside 17th streets of the G I
I'm Top D-O-G number 3
You know from the O.G.C.
That blow trees fuckin with them Cocoa be 's
We OD's fuckin with them Cocoa be 's
[Buckshot]
Fuck
really buy anything that sells
Don't go broke tryna be like me or try so hard that you end up in jail
I
I live what I rap I don't live my life by abiding
BITCH!)
We on some shit boy/
[Verse 1: Tarek]
Heard a knock knock on the door, glock cocked by the floor/
Pop shots if it’s war, blocks hot like a whore/
Top 5 nini nini me nakuanga top 3
Na bado kwa top 3 ni me ndo natop list
Kila verse me nakill
Sio clout hii ni skill
Hii Ni movie hii si reel
Ka unaumwa
Phyllis,
Self made G, and them bitches know the business.
Relying on rap, but in the kitchen I'm a chemist,
And when I was 5, my favorite movie was
ain't even pullin' out my-
I can't get packed by TMZ, tryna fit four tings in the G63
I'ma give one ting to my bro YG, I'ma handle the rest and jeet all
the coldest it can be
If you don't believe me now, by the end you'll agree trust me
I'll do anything to protect my aura
I've been keeping my distance way before
every real g know
you can't do both
I ain't stressed out by a chick, it's way too many
You ain't gotta know me
but respect this
Every chick
that I had was
cnd every real g know
you can't do both
I ain't stressed out by a chick, it's way too many
You ain't gotta know me
but respect this
Every chick
that I
like Nick Nolte
Young but O-G's at this rap shit nigga please
One hit for all of us to start eating
And wild stack on three weeks
on bowell leather
nigga, fuck you, blow me
But you will respect me or get it in your neckpiece G
No three niggaz here are gonna let me be
or get your insides exposed
glad that we free
Some niggas truly move like bitches and I'm glad it's not me
It got me feelin' top three and plus I know I'm not three
And I know I'm
A S A P, F E R G
Big Tigger, I'm jigga, and you know me, D
(ay)
Lamborghini dreams, bitch I mean what I say
Do it for a purpose, you just her by mistake
Put
stampeded by the wildabeast
A rap dast' plus tracks black like Chow Yun Fat
Oppositional forces get their eardrums flat
Common denominator, I swing the mic
May...I... kick a little something for the G-O-D's in the J-E-are-S-E-why
Because you niggas know me I'm the da gan ya dee
Sixteen five four three five
to rap on a wack jazz track for one G
How dare you try to insult me?
I got 40 grand for three minutes to write a song with Prodigy
Other crews don't get
that are gritty
Fat Joe told you that the jealous ones envy
And the hungry ones be plottin in the cut by the plenty
In my close the thirty years, I have
to just play ball,
But as time when by, my ball partners they started to fall,
But I was taught by the G from that old school,
As I got older, the old
here wit the gang I gotta two by Four
Let this pistol bang like G I Joe
All about the dead presidents a nigga keep cashin
Nigga my shoes cost yo rent
Oh, what a night, yo, that I've just been through
I barely made it home from this hip-hop venue
These two guys, no three guys, no four, no, this
a couple of 'em, we always fuck with rubbers
This ain't O.G. kush, I like to call it Bubble
[Chorus]
[Verse 2]
Ay fuck boy, I'm the James Toney of rap
little bitch
(Make sure you bring it 'Pac)
Around the way type shit
(Ayy yo 'Pac do that shit Westside style)
All them little hidden words in your raps
All
Than pull out a bitch, like a rabbit out a hat
Nigga if I want, I can have it like that
Fuck two or three bitches at the same time
Grab the microphone
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