Lyrics:
(Pop a Dom boo, what, see'mon)
[Petey Pablo]
It's the dippy dippy don now you heard that
Let's take you back, where the original Tim the bird
pop my shit
Im the motherfuckin goat
I aint seen one yet that can stop this shit
Dave tell em what it is
Another hood classic
Ok ok Ya Ya
'em, ayy)
Why the fuck you typin' on Twitter? You ain't gon' slide (slide)
I could make a whole brick sing, Mary J. Blige (brick)
I could tell the ho
thick thighs
Tell me if ya down tonight
You and me and tonight
Girl what do ya say?
I gotta have it you's a sexy thing
The way you pop it, shake it
jus don't slip
Just got me a rental I'm bouta go smack tints
He ain't check my jacket he ain't see I was with it
My soulja told me hit 'em back in
that ice and make it lock wit' it
I tell 'em lean wit' it (lean wit' it), rock wit it (rock wit' it)
Throw some bake up in the pot wit' it (pot wit'
the greatest
Call up Soulja Boy tell 'em that we made it
the evidence
For pigs to stop and frisk me when they rollin' round on patrol?
And ask "Why you're here?" I just tell 'em 'cause it is what it is
I live here
learnt that 'by now
Heard she fuckin' with the opps (damn)
And she was just on they block with the same nigga you was tryna pop (what?)
Man, this shit
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
on the cover of Fader
And she say it's my time like Flava
Plus she know I ain't fishin, but I bait'em
And I'm livin' like Flava (Yeah yeah)
Tell the bitch I'm
I'm so fly, I need my ass kicked
These niggas ballin' by accident, uhh
Keep talkin' nigga fuck up your body
Send you home and tell your
Mom it was
about to go down wit' some foul niggaz
What the voice said, "What up pop? Who want it?"
I put the guap up, get the boy popped
He say, "Son stop, it's
on the cover of Fader
And she say it's my time like Flava
Plus she know I ain't fishin, but I bait'em
And I'm livin' like Flava (Yeah yeah)
Tell the bitch I'm
down)
Call OTT, tell 'em pull up, I'm on the side of town (skrrt, on the side of town)
One phone call, wipe a nigga nose, just like Bobby Brown (Bobby
straight up thugged out
They killas like that little soldier boy
'Cause we livin' in the killin' field
Tombstone soldier rest in peace a real warrior
Nigga
At words poetic, I'm so pathetic
That I always have found it best,
Instead of getting 'em off my chest,
To let 'em rest unexpressed.
I hate
Every day, I'ma ball on em, ball on em
Chuck T, we gon' ball on em, ball on em Finally made it, so let's ball on em, ball on em
Tell Pops, we gon' ball
like I'm soulja boy
Gotta coup yet I'm really home, home, gotta treat the crib like the studio
Or grave, I don't know how to behave, working for minimum
stall
Stutter, softer than melted butter
There's no other word, go ask your mother
Hard solid as your city
Born in Brooklyn, can tell by the way that
Astro on the beat!
Nigga just woke up with it
Fresh out the bed watch me turn my swag on
Like I'm SouljaBoy tell em' who did it
Brodie bought
At words poetic, I'm so pathetic
That I always have found it best,
Instead of getting 'em off my chest,
To let 'em rest unexpressed.
I hate
leaving after the song
So you ain't gotta feel no
Way about Jay so long
At least let me tell you why I'm this way
Hold on i was conceived by Gloria
Carter
play you lay it down
I made 3 when the score sound pop on the board
Tell the crowd I'm the kind now
I be so clean wit the bleach
Had to get masked up
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