Lyrics:
Look at these actors, they be frontin b', bitch that ain't my mans
I keep it loud, yeah this blunt for me, she can't see a thing, off these clouds
life and a better roof
You don’t understand prolly cause yo life been bulletproof
Feelin like I’m gotti I might go n cop a rarri
All black in Versace
bitch, you worried bitch nigga tell yo mama put a frame on it
Know it's murder, if The Game on it
Irv Gotti with the flame on it
I'm in the coupe,
And that's rea
Ooh yeah yay, Yo Gotti, Pleasure P
Let's do it, yeah
Shawty ride or die here if I'm sober or high
She know just what to do
gangsta shit
I say No Limit loud, cause we ain't scared of nobody
Organized by P or should I say, John Gotti
Real niggas, put ya guns up if ya feel me
But
niggaz they about trust
All these women got in me lust
All you bastards got me fucked up
All you actors might touched up
I'll put yo team straight
Yo, every time I write I
Start reverting to my life
It feels more important
Than any words that rhyme
And what I mean is this: I can't
Rap for other
like that nigga?
What the fuck I got to do not to get banged up by that trigga?
Cause in the projects, ain't no love
Niggaz will split yo wig cause they
Rolling up
Getting high
Smoking weed
Help me get by
Three A.M can't sleep
Now I'm up
Should I roll me
A joint
Should I roll me
Blunt
Lemon haze
OG told me always keep it real, don't do no actors
And yo OG told you to get that pole and go get active
Yo OG really told yo dumbass go on and give yo
motherfuckers can't even handle what I throw y'all (yo, yo)
Yo, ever since a shorty I was hard-headed and angry
And mad complex and wouldn't let nobody change
[Verse One: Ras Kass]
These niggaz rowdy-rowdy never rains in Southern Cali
Only clowdy, howey hit the valley in black Denali's
Like I am Johnny Gotti
the wack..who tryin to bite my style
Take yo ass to da old school
And part your fuckin eyebrows
I comin through to
About to get set
So act like WU..Protect
Lyrics so deep they keep passing you by
I'm cutting niggaz down like drive by
Niggaz can't keep, 'cause yo, money, your shit is dry
Grand Puba, Stud Doogie
really is
Built pyramids, ground up from the streets
It's that Q talk serious
Yo, see I'm a student of a game how I pay attention
You so poor that
Gotti, Neo Deastro, Franklin Gostra the Sixth, Sixth
May I laugh to yourself shells, before honor and war I just can't tell
I can't fake these
much, too much, too much
(I heard somebody bit our shit 'cause!)
Where we from?
[Chorus]
Dogg Pound Gangstas ba-by, Dogg Pound Gangstas (Say what?)
Dogg
paper im on yo ass, ceo illy been by the bag
post wit dat strap that was by the bag, I feel like wop ima buy the block
i feel like ross ima chop
I don't give a fuck about the nigga sellin' crack
All I know, he better put some back
Robbin' the community, yo that's whack
You robbin' a Benz?
dropped yo bitch
She thought I was the one
Glitch inside the matrix
Panoramic views still surrounded by yo fake shit
A problem with coding
Wait do you even
we gettin' it, we gettin'
I fuck with Yo Gotti and Dolph
So this shit ain't my business, my business
You need a pack and the
Money good, I'ma send it,
featuring The Fugees
WJ: Yo this mic is on?
The wickedest combination in the world!
WI: No doubt Poor Righteous Teachers
Yea, yo
Yo why they talking bout they holy prophets when they nonprofits
Pedal hope like dope while they all up in ya moms pockets
Pope pimpin in
Yo introducing the improvement of a natural act
You hear this beat drop and watch it move the front to the back
And it's actually time to react
.jpg/214px-NPG_94_48_Temple_(cropped).jpg "Child Actor")
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