Lyrics:
to wicked ways
Gotta love me, g-o-d no one above me
Look good but fuck ugly, tap your jaw
From my punch, watch your son and you
Got you shittin in your last
ended him, silenced
Call up my niggas, I'm working till two
Told them slide by I'm fresh out the stu
The beat so hard, I turned burgundy blue
They said I
for the thirty-eight
I pick it up, man fuckit
I gotta go out and hit the street and get some ducats
Lookin' for somethin' to hit
I throw on my
shit, and head Western
relocation
new state, new destination
re-arrange your life
on the run from vice
make you pray to Christ
kid fucked up
my
Check it out, I'm the C-A-S-A, the N-O-V-A,
And the rest is F-L-Y,
You see I go by the code of the doctor of the mix,
And these reasons I'll tell you
heard from ever since
And officer, those ain't my fingerprints
Down low I'm scary slide to the back of this
City-O cash flow is miraculous
cribs, low bread to whole loaves
Go hard or go home, go home and don't trip
Same block, same whip
Free as a bird, used to be runnin' from 12, live
I'd rather box, than have to use my nine
Punk buckled up from a one, two punch
My girl stomped the sucker with a high heel pump
Cops on my jock, I
Hold up I might have to flex, I only take checks
3 chains on my neck, my bitch she from czech
My whip too high-tech, can't get in a wreck
Get hurt
Check one, two
Listen up one, two
Check me out, check me out, yo
For forty seconds, streets settle 'til the light out like Shuttlesworth
Huddle
the way I draw four
Brick City law, strip to your drawers
Boy now I can pick up two pair from the mall
It's time for Doc to check yo' a*** n***
It ain't
said they had an informant
I'm back in this caged up cell
With the apes in jail, now I'm back in this eight by twelve
See I tried to live right
But
stickin' a chickin
In my Michelin ready to pigeon pitch again
From Switzerland to New York
I was whippin' Bently's before them pictures up in the Source
I'm
and she got 2 plastic hips
when i step to the club feel free to stare me down
because I just got re-elected the mayor of pussytown
May-or-of-pus-sy-town
clothes and Rolls
Or sit on the porch sip something real cold
I like the nine when you up and not O's
I do suits while you prefer the lows
Tonight I'mma
(can’t oh my)
Say that he can do this, but he can’t no lie (woo)
Living on the low, and you can’t know why (huh)
Wake up, get ya cake up, cause this how we
soul to the
Devil for thirty percent off
And to you emo kids who
Walk around pissed off
Step one: pull your panties down
And start to piss off
Step two
stuff up, y'all feel good?
Yo, what the hell y'all wanna do, Syndicate, tonight, what you wanna do?
(Party!)
Randy Mac in the place to be, what you
.G.
[Repeat: x2]
[Black Child]
Yo man money, he funny, he a dummy, he ain't a {O.G.}
He gangsta, but he holy, might be a {O.G.}
High profile but low key
[Hook - 2x]
Maabin, in the streets, until we die
No more dope selling or robbing
We platinum and gold
That to make them diamonds shine
[Z-Ro]
I
Ford
And I ain't thugging, they clapping at me, a encore
Got a dark heart, bright mind, make women crazy
I give her D, I throw up two, I call that shit
Y'all know me, still the same O.G.
But I been low-key
Hated on by most these - with no cheese
No deals and no G's
No wheels and no keys
No
Y'all know me, still the same O.G.
But I been low-key
Hated on by most these niggas with no cheese
No deals and no G's
No wheels and no keys
No
Y'all know me, still the same O.G.
But I been low-key
Hated on by most these niggas with no cheese
No deals and no G's
No wheels and no keys
No
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