Lyrics:
Here's a song about bein' on the backside of it
Makin' money at thirty with a wife and a son
Then a short five years later, it all comes undone
suppose to be, don't be a punk ass bitch, just get open with me
[Too Short talking:]
Cause I'm a real player. A-yo Pimp see I don't think they feel us
of sex to be stuck by the punk
We are the ones who must sport the position
Rich homes with money and food
Abandoned for the bums on the street
want is money, fuck the fame
I'm a simple man, lawd!
You know that I'm a rider
Tell em just a simple man
All I want is money,fuck the fame
I'm a simple
You kidding me or what man?
There's a bunch of Colombians coming in Friday, new guys
They said they got two keys for us, openers
Pure cocaine, you
car killing
Gossipping? Man, fuck the car, look at the man in it, ha
Boys-to-man business, we don't hire bitches
Just fire bitches, Young Money fire
Faith in each other backed up by Luke
Chorus
[We are]
[Ghetto Style]
[Perched in the South]
[The king of the ghetto]
[The man, not a myth]
Verse 2:
You kidding me or what man?
There's a bunch of Colombians coming in Friday, new guys
They said they got two keys for us, openers
Pure cocaine, you
a stack of black chips
Breaking the whole casino and doing back-flips, man
Cameras eying us, sidebetters trying us
The more chips we stack, the more
I'm bout to dump this nigga's shit in New Dimensions"
Get to the crib so I can call Big Slate up
And tell 'em the money man done slipped and got his
by this foolishness
30 years old man still want nothing do with this
Try to find career and a beer on the weekend
And a freak he could take
it sucks to be the fan
When all you need is bucks to be the man, plus a luxury sedan
I'm comfortable and roomy in a 6
But they threw me in the mix
money, short winded
Lets go and get it nigga
Bang bang, bitch niggas kept drinkin' shades from that double M
Get shot in your finger waves
Twenty
dance and dine and wine
Can hang with us most anytime
Boys are boys, we can't do without
In every man there's a boy about
Come lay your head, boy,
Hay oh ah
Is you with me?
Well throw your hands in the air
All my thugs and soldiers
Fuck it even players
Whether you hate us or you show us
fuck around find out in time
I got a short fuse so if
By some chance I get annoyed
The button gets pressed and
Your life gets destroyed
Got niggas
you can think of we can make it
Big money, hit records, watch us get wreckless
We butt-naked, we never sexless
And when I get there you know it's,
people to spend ya money
Wisely don't be obscured
By some things that depreciated like what like a home to open ya eyes to
What's the f***s that's
bein'
You don't wanna motherfuckin'
You don't wanna embrace your destiny
You wanna get by
You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark
Where it's lonely
CAPTION: '?15' (which flashes on and off
Quickly)
Presenter So Mrs Teal...if you send us ?15 by return
Post, please, and your husband Trevor, and your
hands on some dollars and cents
And fools can't hold us
Every chance we get, we hittin' up the rollers
Comin' up short of the green guys
And I might
The court played me short, now I face incarceration
Pacin' going upstate's my destination
Handcuffed in back of a bus, forty of us
Life as a shorty
a light, nigga?
Used to chastise or string us up to spite niggas
War to fight for the culture, instead we eaten by vultures
They mix us like mimosas, hang
it, got money you better get with it
My man had the thug in him did his bid with it
Get married to the game but never have a kid with it
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