Lyrics:
culture, build the homeless a home
I'm not runnin', for Congress or the President
I'm just here, to tell the world, how my story went
You see, first it
stepped on
I remember days that I was slept on
I aint wake em up boy I just kept going
Eyes up on the target it got crept on
Thought you heard some real
taking days off
You know I’m a ghetto boy
Hustle till the sun goes down
I cant get enough
Not sure who can tell me what
Haters I just brush em off
Get
bitch, I'm different
If they ask you 'bout me, tell' 'em that's just stove talk, I'm realistic (big cap)
shit, you think he really got enough money
And now we've come to that time
Where the legend of Griselda lives forever (ah)
The Butcher comin', nigga
Ayo, y'all niggas should know by now
The hate is in our DNA and we been likely to clot so fuck you, hype beast
On God, I'ma tell the truth or die tryin'
Young city boy, I was raised by lions
to makin' beats, I'm the MVP
I'm the main motherfucker, you're an NPC
Got 'em full of envy, the boy from M.D
Destroyed what I see, deploy, then I be
cliqued up"
Oh yeah? Puto want to
Squabble with mi barrio?
Oh, yeah? Tell 'em they can
Run it for the cardio
Oh, yeah? Everythin' is everythin'
It's
motherfuckers necks
Do it to 'em daddy, do it to 'em
As my, Daytons spin lowrider sittin' low
Hittin corners so hard you can taste my rims
Hard top
In Here Mayne.
Tell Em The Name, Tell Em The Name. Chamillitary Mayne.
(Chamillionaire Chorus)
I Hear You Talkin That Talk (That Talk), I Heard You
bitch
Mortal combat we finish him
His homie too
Mooce tell them boys don't play with you
He gon pick yo grave for you
Yo mama too
I pick and choose what
Tell me how you really feel
Tell me if you really real
Tell me you about it, bout it
Or you just another mouth open trying to get a meal
Trying
Who you wanna be
Who you wanna, who you wanna
Aye uh
Tell em boy who you wanna
Who you wanna be
Who you wanna, who you wanna
Aye uh
Tell em girl who
boy)
{Word?} Ain't he a Reverend now, collectin plates
At churches and shit?
(He's spittin flames right now baby
He at the top of his game, right
on all this shit I’m feelin’
Shed off my old skin but boy I still got pieces peelin’
Let me tell you 'bout it
Let me tell you 'bout this shit
Mr. AP but I
to the truck with the Optimus Prim grille
Handin' out crack got the scene poppin' off
They not sleepin' on 'em the fiends is noddin' off
For real tell me how
state of mind like a shooter
For the New York Knicks i'm the best
And if they ask Kawhi like the Clips
Tell 'em Dax got a glove with
The game in his grip
a disgrace
Or you're gonna wind up gettin' stabbed in the face
And chopped up with a mother fuckin' hatchet
By a real true blue sick psychopathic
Cuz your boys
am black
I tell 'em that I am Nigerian (Nice boy)
They asking me why do we do what I do
I tell 'em to numb the pain killing us (Killing us, killing us)
found out it was made by Volkswagen
This here is a toe tag 'em, Tity Boi gon' and toe tag 'em
Go ahead, hook they ass up to the tow truck
Let them know
realize you're on the weak end to the streets
Preacher for they peeps, you asshole
You in the motion to grab toes, you're reachin' for defeat
I tell 'em I
lie, I got weight on my back
(That's on gang)
The devil keep talkin', but I'ma keep walkin'
'Til I chop 'em down, that's a fact
Tell me why they wanna
what?
So partner tell me what's happenin'
These streets is real
These niggas can't steal, what?
For the jump out boys, when they drive by
So if you're
Strip to Detroit
Say hip-hop only destroy
Tell em' look at me, boy!
I hope your son don't have a gun and never be a D-boy
Alright, already the show
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