Lyrics:
whole face up, wet the nigga from the waist up
They try you once and you pull a fall, and then tell 'em shaw' don't play wit 'em
I'm fourteen in
Man sometimes
I have to come on here and talk my shit ya know
RCK
I Knock em 1 by 1
And 2 by 2
That's what happens when the industry be fucking with
turn around and get down on they knees
Me, I'm screamin' in the house I just won by three
So when I run out on the porch to tell the homies come and see
a seat
[Post]
Draw the pistol way too quick, wrist never stick
Mowing 'em down with every note and lyric
You can die anytime you'd like, take your pick
let's get rich
Under the sun with the young 2 ones TLC's and all the DPG's
Down for whatever who eva wanna see me now
You lookin like me i guess you wanna
lookin' lost (lookin' lost)
Two arms up, flex on 'em (flex)
You do it easy, you don't gotta break a sweat on 'em, ooh
Uh, you make me feel
You make me
crash
Keep this pistol on the dash, he gotta keep the faith
She's pickin' up good vibrations
He's lookin' for sweet sensations
Ladies? (yeah?)
Fuck
'hard, gon' do anything to get it
I ain't see my daughters no, two of 'em, I'm talkin in months
Then they gon' tell them people, lyin ', like I ain't
do,
I never did play by the rules,
When I was in class instead of doing math,
I was drawing pictures of tools,
Im not bouta comment under your picture,
the pistol
All these bad bitches, yeah I don't miss em'
I'm going hard for the fam, go get it
Hundred thou in LA that's the mission
I'm down bad till I cop me
against it, so get up off your ass
Because this is the place, and right now is the time
To let 'em know where I stand and how I get down for mine
They
bottle
I go full throttle
I go full throttle
Lookin at me
I ride her away
Chicks they be hollow
Shawty might swell up
I am the 1
I'm not the 2
That is
down get down, if you ain't 2 fingers peace
You can tell by the car we's some good [unverified] stars
Quarter backin', mackin' hoes pullin' ass from
became a fame
I cannot see my brains layin
On the ground
I keep my 9 on my waistline
Chop 'em down
Picks up the shells to leave no evidence around
and,
on my dick on stage
Thats why your shawty keeps swingin my way
Grabbin your pistol and runnin up on em
My niggas be ready to handle theys
Any time any way
with a drum on a glizzy that's a lot of rounds
I got 50 bullets,m that's for 50 niggas let me dumb it down
I couldn't chase him pull the pistol out my
the mister fo' fifth told 'em
Cookin' coke with baking soda
Dub roller, pro smoker
Wood gripper, pistol whipper.
Muck a nigga if he figure
Fuckin' with my
and it's still 416
But where were you?
When we were down
And I came to the crib, put two hands up (where were you?)
Laid both knees out
And Jah came though
If it ain't 'bout the squad
Don't give a fuck
Pistol in your hand don't make you real
I'm dead in the middle of two generations
I'm little bro
you tonight
Not lookin' for no man
Come this party and I'm not tryin' to stop
Ho, beggars don't be wylin', make 'em shut down the
Spot, oh, no
So
em, Leave em, understand it
Verse 2:
I bang bang baby/ then I kiss my pistol
X-O/Aim/Click-Hit/Neva miss though
Some of yal blind/I’ma make it Crystle
my pistol and my khakis
Never ever thought I would get, got
So I grabbed the fo'-fo' with the thirteen, shots
Hunted him down, like an animal
nigga
I don't give a fuck
Two bands on a Perc', Christian Louboutin
Shit, nigga hating on me
But I don't give a fuck
I don't give a fuck, I don't give
in the way, nigga
FN by me for these fake niggas
I blow a nigga ass down today, nigga
It's a homi' on the way, nigga
Pistols get to bussing at your
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