Lyrics:
flying solo
You used to be one hundred with me
Now you on the low-low
Things ain't been the same
Girl we ain't a thing like we
Used to be, used to be, used
on two-eleven I did a robbery
Shot the mothefucker is grenades that I'll be livin'
Lowin' the motherfuckers like a new pair of Levi's and
Used to think
Sup?
Short Dogg back in the house beeyatch!
And it don't stop to the beat
Ain't no thang but a chicken wing
We gonna do it like this one mo' time
keep the heat and lights on
It would be nice to have mo' but I kinda like being po'
At least I know what my friends here fo'
I want to lie to you
good I dont need no soul
She aint never seen niggaz like these so cold cool
Bitch Im a loner
But dont u dare play wit me youll be a goner
Im still
worse too
I'll murk you like I birthed you
You niggas small bubbles (baby), I'll burp you (hey, hey)
And spit you out and have your girlfriend slurp
worse too
I'll murk you like I birthed you
You niggas small bubbles (baby), I'll burp you (hey, hey)
And spit you out and have your girlfriend slurp
Thousand dollar shades on
My lil' homies boost 'em
Songs bump in Houston like Trae
Tha Truth produced 'em silverback nigga
I suggest you get used
lotta ass like gimme some mo
I smoke a whole lotta grass like gimme some mo
And you know it wont last bouta gimme some mo
Yeah my life moving fast
Say mayne, I had this pussy ass nigga come up to me the other day
You know what I'm sayin'?
Talkin' 'bout "say Bun B
Bun B you gon' rep for P-A
You know, I was doing aight
So when he came, it rocked my world
He told me I couldn't do the things I used to do
I couldn't act the way I used to act
I
Today we will be discussing... Love
(I don't think you hear me though)
Is there anyone.. (I don't think you hear me though)
Is there anyone.. (I
be the setters of examples
Findin rhythm in the static of your samples
Makin you move to the groove as we sooth
the ear of the listener
aint snakin nobody
You best be lacin up ya sneaker lil buddy, throw a rapper out like its a Snicker, lil buddy
Im passin out up off the liquor, still
up this thunderin crime
But niggas get bucked for dime and it's like you're a magnet for sin
Punk pretend to be your friend til they get close enough
if you ain't goin' hard, stay on the bench, nigga
And you know when I come, I leave no prints nigga
And when you die, it won't be at my expense nigga
I know some niggas who stay, but be smoking shit for real
Tryna keep my stomach filled
Cus a hoe gave up the crib
You ain't ever
I know some niggas
mo' tablets
She ride my dick like it's stolen
That's my bike bitch Debo
She do the white by the kilo
I'm not bout that life you can keep those
I
looks real hot up in here) It's pimpin baby
(But what's a pimp?) Oh you know
(I say but what's a pimp?)
(They want to be like this) They want to be
Every time I come out ya'll be like who dat is
Be like more like Ashanti and be unfoolish
You don't really want to break it wit me
You wear Gata, I
to wanna play like Randall and be an Eagle
I used to play the quarterback, my dog would go receiver
That was 'til the ball got flat by a dope needle
own change
But it ain't no illusion
I know you all have witnessed
He rollin' in my Caddy mo'
Wit' fly bitches
Makin' ole deals: Now, ho
Ain't
on-and-and-on-and-on-on-and-on
Like a hot buttered pop-da-pop-da-pop, dibbie dibbie
Pop-da-pop-pop, you don't dare stop
Come alive, y'all, gimme whatcha got
I guess by now
the motherfucking grimy style
Meth Tical, Heltah Skeltah for the Ninety-Now
Remind me how, the way it used to be
Yo you used to be
Better than you is on the mic
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