Lyrics:
to get some change so T-Mo can stay alive
Not greedy or living' lavish yet but you can bet that when I do
Nobody from my crew will I forget
And if I
don't give a fuck
I went up in the club
And like a thousand niggas
A thousand chicks
Was doing the James Brown
Get the fuck out of here
I'm like oh
Alright, before we get it started
Before we did 'Smoke two joints', that was Jack from the Toys
And that song 'Rivers Of Babylon'
Was written by
of hollow tips
Tec, 9 millimeter, glock or 22
Mafia style, don't even fuck with the pimpsta crew
Bust the yak and pass me that bud sack
Cause niggaz with
know the young dumb niggas
Who don't care how they get it as it come
Nigga fades
Old school party music playing and fades
Hey, hey are you that little
Yo, law is it cool if a nigga just
Get fucked up for this one?
Yeah, Mr fuck-a-Cop is back
And I still don't give a fuck, yaknahmsayin'?
Puffin'
one named Sue
Sue don't really do what Becky do
Becky sexual with the crew (gang)
2000 at HollyGrove
This the year of the Mula
I put that on Mula
ain't sliding he cappin, his niggas lying in caskets.
I don't shoot from a distance, I'm driving 2 to his basket
Posting up like he living, but now he
friend or enemy
Same damn thang
I smile back, cuz it don't get to me
This how we gone live in these Oak Cliff streets
Nigga, Sac these streets sweet
Fore
of their way"
I remember every time
That i been stopped by a cop
Every trauma dream i had
Of getting busted or popped
One cop, two cop
Three cop, four-
Make
on
the floor gettin ready for the party tonight through it up if your down
to roll
[Verse 1]
Come on come on lets do it again 2 double o 1 dropin it nbk with
If you don't like me, I ain't feelin' your ass neither (ha ha)
I need a true diva, pushin' a two-seater (yea)
That's alright, let my wife, my crew
like a bitch, get smacked by your pimp
Your steelo's undercover, corny on the real brother
Keep that mop down, just like your album sound
You flop,
on the way
Shit it sounded okay, but me I had to ask
If we don't do Big Pimpin 2, would you still put us on blast
A song like that might take a nigga
from Timb, then get a verse from Jay
Let Hype shoot the video and we'll be on the way
Shit it sounded okay, but me I had to ask
If we don't do Big
(Chorus: Repeat 2X)
And even though you gone, your memory lives on
And on yeah, and even though you died
You still my nigga, my nigga, my niggas
I met
(gimme that)
Now I carry a sword, attached by a live cord
Oh my lord!
Chorus: Erick Sermon (repeat 4X)
Watch me do it up like this.. {"like this.." ->
where they
Say them boys get gritty
I ain't comin' by myself
You know I got some soldiers with me
Single filed, we fall up off that tour bus
And we would
done with school
I just finished the 2nd grade
The weathers so nice that you don't need shoes
I'm gonna play in the sun all day
Saturday Morning after
ooh-la-la-laaa, i don't buy by the ounce, i buys by the baaar
i loves gettin' loadsa fukin' draw
and then sell it to my mates and gettin' fukin' wrecked up
and we're done with school, I just finished the 2nd grade
The weathers so nice that you don't need shoes, I'm gonna play in the sun all day
Saturday Morning
Yeah
I Wake Up, Get Fly
Take Pictures? Hell Nah
My crew, 2 Live
Cooking, stir fry
I wake up, too fly
Hotter than July
Wanna kick it, Muay Thai
To the get the pain of my chest
[Verse 2]
Gettin murdered by the hands of a buster
Over respect
Last night my little homie cought a bullet in the neck
Look
at your crew
Like Whoop-de-doo
Hoody Hoo
Who is you
I keep the pills blue, and all the bills blue too
Out of time, out of luck
Get your money up, you know
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