Lyrics:
melon popped
I slide round by myself dese niggas gotta hang with like seven guys
I ain't never needed help I did it by myself better recognize
And when we
Live by the code, die by the code
Never been a hoe, bury me before I sell my soul
Live by the code, die by the code
Never been a hoe, bury me
And party on down to this DJ Quik beat
The beat that gets you up and
Gets you outta your seat
Flip your BET on kick back
And get your 'G' on
We on some west
probably find the main jar
I been major, it's Rapsody, boy
I don't trust the score, I've been baffled by judges' cards before
Never leave it in their
down memory lane.
Boy it's a loony where the grass is greener
(1 8 7 ain't shit but a misdemeanor).
I've seen a lot of niggas come up, but few
dem sleeves up
Nigga, what the fuck?
You know about that D.P.G. Bad Boy connection
Connected by Funk Flex we in a Lexus
Or even the Suburban, swerve
Welcome to a party in the G town city
Where the nights are alive and the girls are pretty
This is how we ride in the G town city
Twenty four seven
and cable, plus they labeled me Savage
For the love of it
Till my death, they stay on sum other shit
Pops shoot, second nut, inherited his stuborness
Skies are
give the ops more credit than what's deserved like y'all ain't suited up at 30 past 7 up in the church
And I don't come in second or third only time is
lightin’ a fuse
I refuse to bomb it all like TNT and my reasons be is
My people are bitin’ they nails every second they seein’ me
I ain’t a G, I’ma keep it Z
like I'm Beckham
Life is short so she want me by the second
Ever since I put the Ice bergs inside my pendant
Ay they label me as Avant Garde
Young
The time was four minutes after seven pm on a Wednesday evening
I have a recording session schedule for 9 O'clock which is 2 hours from now
I'm
up, 'cause they got caught up by trickaz now
Lock down to all blood clots, Malik and Warren G and we shakin up
Spots
[Warren G]
Plots, when we
Twenty-four seven
I've been working overtime
Ain't got that much to show for it
Still had to sell my soul for it
Just to get by
Twenty-four seven
Y-O-G-A
Yoga pose of the day
Hey everybody
The yoga pose of the day is
Cobra Pose
Follow along with me and I will teach you how to do it!
Are you
I ain't have to spend a quarter mil' or rent sixty G's
I ain't never had nobody beggin' me up on they knees
Seven seas, you still came and chose
between the races
He hold the rock, call for sweatshops
Guard the set shop replaced by sex shops
The highest bidder, no room for the quitter
Game seven
Hello?
Yo, who this?
Yo, this-
Yo, what up, man?
Yo, what's up, dude? Who this?
This is the Black Thought
Oh, what's up, G?
What's good? Yo
Hello?
Yo, who this?
Yo, this-
Yo, what up, man?
Yo, what's up, dude? Who this?
This is the Black Thought
Oh, what's up, G?
What's good? Yo
between the races
He hold the rock, call for sweatshops
Guard the set shop replaced by sex shops
The highest bidder, no room for the quitter
Game seven
Feedin' off the motivation, that's a strong verbal
Black Lex, W7, with the bloody seats
Fuck it, risk it all, stackin' 100 G's
Six-figure earner, tryna get
involved
Gotta boss up, bitch, if you wanna walk
If you a walka not a talka (G's up G's up)
If you a walka not a talka (Throw it up, throw it up)
To all my
warm at night
C I’ve been walking down the old streets
Am looking at all the cobblestones
G the people are passing me by
Fmaj7 I’m trying not
at the Second Cup
Sipping from a Seven-Up
Moon-gotcha, moon-gotcha, voulez-voulez-vous
Middle age What a laugh, better get the decaf
Moon-gotcha, moon-gotcha,
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