Lyrics:
that toaster in his hand
Nah, my opp's don't need no holidays with lotion and no sand
Just go and stand up on your block, you'll be closer to a tan
a schedule
He missin the coastin
Right By the ocean
Differential
He came in to the play game
100 percentage authenticate
MJ fadeaway
No matter the block
man I been out of ideas
You seen it
You heard it in Muse, I'm used to writing with ease
It's the reason
I get all stuck in my head when a block in
And they rainin' on ya block, and ya brains like Chile
Get Silly!
[Soulja Boy]
My chain too silly, my watch too dumb
Only rapper on Myspace with more
mine
Gave my bro a Louis V--
because I like it
I'm living how I dream nigha
Nigha stay silent
I keep my energy lit they tryna get by it
They couldn't be
a eagle
Got mo cheese then some pizza
I should be sponsered by Lil Cesar
Got them banjos i don't need Visa
Free my little sister Deidra
Told my daughter
lady hoe
BK he don't spin the block yeah poverty's my only op
I don't gonna talk too much my niggas we outside for guap
gualla yeah that breeshy made me
block work tell ‘em that it’s really no thing
Told mama I need a hundred grand, yuh
Told my niggas stick to the fucking plan, yuh
Need that fetti nothing
I'm scarred by your love
You left my heart bleeding
Seeing demons
Ion even get the meaning
Feel like i'm dreaming
Laid back off the drugs
But ian
and hussle
Nigga we got dem flippers for that ass
{2x}
Verse Two: {Yella Boy}
Like Black and Moe I got this shit sold
Cock diesel by my side another homicide
body cocked thee
Returned to death stair, eye's full of blood shot
Try to block it wit a chuckel, hit that shit nigga, fuck you
Fuck him, pull my
head in the clouds
Clouds in my head
Got my head in the clouds
Walking on a cloud
Hey
How could you let this opportunity pass you by, pass you by, oh
more time and I'll appear by your side
My voice'll drop a measure and your ears'll feel the pleasure
You'll here my tongue lashing because my tongue is
(woo)
My diamonds gon' shine, might poke you in the eye (shine)
You selling by the ounce, my nigga, you just getting by (whoa)
Put the birds in my
Old School Party-Dance Like We Used (Streethop Remix)
(T. Blakemore, J. Stringfellow, Trevell Franklin)
""Now here's a little something for
clockwise
I used to be one of my
Stand up on the block guys
Now I'm a OG, kush
Do it on my own
I won't need a push
Bigging up Dynamite
And I'm bigging
a fucking question
That's my man, I ain't got a fucking question
Good-Good boot come get you a dab
Remix that nigga, now he smoke a finesse
All I want is
Rock the A.V.X. cock pit cover my chest
Yo they bag Palm, L.Murder everybody
Doe Boy, Real Ral, Nitty and Montey
Lebannon, Little Worm dun, Little
[Intro by TQ]
I was just a young boy
The remix, this is the way we do it
[Verse 1 by TQ]
Now I'm standing on the corner, high as fuck
Thinking 'bout
platinum
We know the presidents are flowin' by who's sackin' them
I'm that type of guy when poppa wasn't happy with it
Trippin' them up, that was my
and you can lay by my side
Lay by me
If that is something you would need
Lay by me
If you need
You can
I feel the hate but they keep talking, they can't
there's no way
No, I don't want you to stay
I can tell that you're fake
Back with the remix
These boys all my sons like Phoenix
(Pooh, you a fool for this
tell him
Cock it back, hit a lick wid it
Keep it workin drop a brick wid it
Off the block, serve a nig wid it
Whip a brand new whip wid it
Apartment
scorching hot
Run the block
Been on 2 Pac
Stay away my mood shot
I'm nice you not
Wipe your nose
I'm sick
Flu shot
Bad girl and I'm making her boobs knock
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