Lyrics:
dawg go serve em by the bunch
I keep me a gun, I'm killin' these niggas, I'm shootin' for fun
He say he gon' blitz, but he really gon' run
I'm out in
Air cracks and fractures it ain't ye rear view
S'like ye seein a fractal image, y'eyes deceive you
Reach forth into what is actually a dimensional
niggas pull up, bust you (boom)
Don't work out, but I got muscle (yeah)
When we in the whip, we clutchin'
If we up it, we gon' bust it (boom)
Let 'em
Cut, stab, chop, ouch!
Welcome to the Slaughterhouse!
Left your daughter out
Now I got her by the pouch
And I'll turn her out, with my mouth
'cause I
(This is it, Gary)
Now I'm running
Now I'm ducking
Now he bluffing
Now he huffing
Last bits of air
This shit ain't nothing
I'm a rockstar
After this
Straite, who are you...It's I.Q. ...taking
These crews out by twos making moves to confuse....who could
Refuse the
Flave the way we shape it like
If I could play in the NBA
I would be that six-four all day shootin that trey
I dribbled to the outside and passed it to Shaq
they double teamed
intact
They tryna join the squad but this ain't that no it don't work like that
Cut him off the second that I heard he turned into a rat
Got Gary Payne,
and get 'em out to (call your girls and call your boys up)
Help you cut it loose, (cut it loose) shake that caboose (oh yeah)
Nothing cuts me loose like
of it 'cause I'm
Who takin' care of it
Your lil' bitch said she won't
Fuck me 'cause I'm arrogant
My plug used to let me hold
Them babies like a surrogate
Fucked a bitch who's gettin stacked
Keep it moving less you movin' this pack
Whatcha say Gucci?
I was thinking out loud
Bout what?
Sellin whole better
the court, I was like DJ Unk
Bitch, I walked it out (Eastside, walk it out)
Back on my shit (Southside, walk it out)
And I bet the same niggas ain't talkin'
last shot, gotta take it,
No more rules, gotta break it,
Don't count me out
TRACK WRITTEN BY: TOM QUICK
ALEX BITTLES GARY CONNOR
MATTHEW STRAFFORD
a bitch, hella nasty (yeah)
Walking out in public, swaggin' out like bitch caress me (yeah)
All you niggas gimmicks, boy I'll catch your ass by Sesame Street
kill gods
My coke hand is still sketchin' out my memoirs
What I did to door panels on them Windstars
Gem stars, left cuts in the dinner plates
It's
And knockin' motherfuckers out is ah must
Rockin' Rodney Moore down wit us
My nigga Willie you know he down wit us
Can't forget about Reggie 'cause he down
they house on Zillow
AK on the table and the
Glock right by my pillow
Fuck it, trap it out, fuck it, fuck it
Trap it out
Fuck it, trap it out, fuck it
popping Shit just hard to manage
Got it out the mud Like the ditch at ya grannies
Don't know why they still watching I've been feeling damaged
Heart sold
a potty mouth (yeah)
All the girls I ever got pregnant I trick the body out (yeah)
Lift that ass up (lift that ass), got them titties did
Got rich
got it hazy
You know we do this shit
On the daily
Balling like T-Mac
But I talk my shit Gary Payton
Before I die get me that foreign
Want the extra
was originally
Scheduled to be released last
Year, but it was pushed back
By Meek's label, Atlantic
After he was sentenced to
Six months in prison
(He
next, I'm stakin' out a five star restaurant to kidnap the chef
Say goodbye to the stress
I know you think you got it together player, but fuck
you looking bad come and by my little freak
I've been doing me ever since Moore St old A town tell them that it raised a G
Matter fact play my shit all
Never Gonna Stop (Giving You Love)
Written by Darron Moore
Darron Moore and the 14th Floor /From the Album: Love?s Fight
Verse
Say baby how are
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