Lyrics:
I got the fur on my back, safari (Fur)
Grab the fire and spark it (Fire)
Kick, flip a brick (Kick)
Wrap in the kitchen, I martial art it (Woo)
I hop
Bullets fly by cha cha blow in the wind
One afta' another and another
How they come slippin out the clips
see 'em flip and hm hum
[B.G.]
You see how Hot
bitch back x3
Rich like omi ina hellcat
I see ya lil check I can flip that
Out in the tropicals
Throwing bands like garrapolo
They tried to stop me
work
Bow down
To the gang
Dropping fools on the dirt
Bow down
Because we ain't no levas like you
Bow down
To the lil locos
Clica fool
I creep up putos
money jumping out da gym
Jumping out da gym
Jumping out da gym
No Dominee, money jumping out da gym, gone
By the jail stretchy landings, how I does it
Check the pain I inflict, like a convict, the Fulton digger
Jump in the Acura Vigor, after I stick ya
Rip ya like a razor, straight up Henny with
Mad That y'all Done Got Me (Got Me)
They ain't Keepin It Real Like They Talkin, Pussy Niggas Is All That I See
(David Banner Verse)
If It Jumps Off It
Mad That y'all Done Got Me (Got Me)
They ain't Keepin It Real Like They Talkin, Pussy Niggas Is All That I See
(David Banner Verse)
If It Jumps Off It
Nigga robbed my lil cuz guess he mad bout that two three
You can get two for the three bitch I feel like i'm migo lee
Try to jump in this water you
Pour up for the times we was poorer
I had to jump off the porch
I had to hop in da Porsche
Used to flip packs out a ford truck
Now I'm countin up
bout it
We hit the club off that drank that bitch be real crowded
24/7 no days off to make sure my kids got it
I hit rock bottom and came back up lil
Cut into the alley
Stop at the corner
Alright he's there
Turn off the headlights
Hop out make you freeze like a jump scare
Don't condone no busters
I just spent three racks on a motherfuckin' chain
You should probably go see my whip
Woke up this morning', feelin' so damn fly
You should probably
numbers, flip a
Key, fuck some haters, shake 'em off
Get a P, sell that bitch for thirty-three
Like I'm in Boston
Pockets full of blue hundreds
Yeah that's
You fuckin with the mutha fuckin realist niggas
[The Game:]
It's 3, The hard way
Black Lambo, No passengers
Black Ski mask, Chain Saw Massacre
Kill
loaves
Bad Lil red bitch drive my loads
In the trap spot tryna get off 3 bows
If you run up got the choppa by the stove
Sticked up, nigga what you want do
no hands
Watch me almost jump out my pants
See the look on the face of the fans
When I finish watch them clap there hands[Clap Hands 3 Times]
All
with the pound, click, blaow!
Click, click, (blaow!) Click, (blaow!)
Stop traffic, dropping them classics, flip now
Bitches, I'm making them skip with
Whoa! (Whoa!) Whoa! (Yeah)
Aiyyo Tim man this the jump off right here man! (Jump off!)
Whoa! (Whoa!) Whoa! (Whoa!) Whoa! (It's Queen Bee nigga)
the left
No autopsy necessary, determined the cause of death
Six shots across the chest should explain his loss of breath
Skin peeled off your flesh, I
money bag
You can push it, you can push it
Bring it to me by the 4th
You don't want flak
Flip that bag
Keep it on track
Flip that bag
Get a lil bat
Flip
to stop Trillville and Three 6, Hell no
I know by now someone told you about the cracker in Memphis
Three 6 picked up two years ago, the shit was
always jump lil' nigga I jump)
(But I always jump lil' nigga I jump, I Jump right now!)
Back to back its body stacking we got money laid
Just because
can't talk at all and have to cry
Oh, I'm gettin' off track
Or maybe I should just go and
Finish that like No Life Shaq
You want to know what pisses me
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