Lyrics:
if you ain't got that pin number dummy, you can't call me
To hook up with Mix you gotta call that number
Then sit by the phone and wonder
Will he
of eligible young people
Standing amongst the crowd of adolescents
Struck by the nauseating mix
Of perfume and aftershave i look around
Still half expecting
the Waffle House and met a bitch from England
I just left out west and they in love with a nigga English
Gelato 33, I hit it once now I can't breathe
She been
know I won't go easy
Keep that glizzy tucked (right)
I keep it so G
Thuggin by my lonely
All my people look at me
To get us out thats on me
These bitters
know you can't take these awful songs
Like a punk full of bullshit, nigga hell nah
They want some real shit (Right now)
They want the real
(Right now
See I know how to treat a hoe
Just talkin and great a hoe
Niggas know I don't need a hoe
Don't mix up your people hoe
If I tell you do something
See I know how to treat a hoe
Just talkin and great a hoe
Niggas know I don't need a hoe
Don't mix up your people hoe
If I tell you do something
see me
[2Pac]
Them b****es is foul, take a look at the evening news
You`ll see a n**** gettin' cuffed by the boys in blue
Is it a, frame up,
I've seen money
But baby, I got to gets mo'
You scream and go
2Pac
And I ain't stoppin'
'Til I'm well paid
Bails paid
Now nigga, look what hell
I've seen money
But baby, I got to gets mo'
You scream and go
2Pac
And I ain't stoppin'
'Til I'm well paid
Bails paid
Now nigga, look what hell
send yo ash to
Heaven if you got the wrong complexion, you look beneath the
Skin i think you’ll see the right connection, I’m guessing
judge me by my
with the pack feeding
When I was young I had visions of another world
Sneaking looks at the porn stash of my brother hurl
Incense smoke made vortices
all you get is drama nigga
Gangsta, soldier, fruity fruit rolled up
Young Dro, yeah, but all goddamn grown up
Ten a key now, got da whole block
2000-Fizive and you are not fly enough (young bitch)
Uh Hold up young bitch-bitch I just don't wanna stop comin' up
you just listened to it
Oh, I'm sorry my bad
DJ DJ hey what's up? I brought you a copy
Of my brand new cut i'm just a young artist
Tryna mash and grind
with my mom up to san rafael
Now I’m older I go there all by myself
But the cornbread mix is still not a hard sell
So wave that flag, ring that bell
Like, "what you talkin' bout feel young?" We still young, like
You so beautiful, I just wanted you to know, I fell for your soul
Even when the well dry,
2000-Fizive and you are not fly enough (young bitch)
Uh Hold up young bitch-bitch I just don't wanna stop comin' up
it's like out there
I mean, uh, gross, look
She's just so, black
I like big butts and I cannot lie
You other brothers can't deny
That when a girl
with some eager
And my bitch so bad yeah she look like a diva(huh let's go)
Im tryna eat her out right now baby come here(it's Young Sex, Young Sex,
ready for a child…
Just wanna see my baby moms smile
Young OG Cal
Adina Howard, she’s a freak
The only man you need
Wine and dine
7 dates a week
WALTER:
Calm yourself, young Nathan. As always, there’s a spot up here on my lap just for you. And it’s getting cold! Brrrr!
NATHAN:
Oh, boy!
UNCLE
Serving all these streets, hoes all through my phone
Young, dumb, nobody by me now I'm always focused on my queen
Always smoking with my team You
See I know how to treat a ho
Just talk and greet a ho
Make her know I don't need a ho
Don't mix up your people ho
If I tell you do something
You
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