Lyrics:
Preach! The same rapper that die hard
Bruce Willis with a vest under the Izod
Wanna beat you? Man I ain't gotta try hard
You getting beat by the internet
Yo, my family
Obviously, try call you and that
But you must be busy at the moment man, I know how the grind gets man
Keep it up G
You know how it go
(geto boooys!)
I know y'all niggas gon' feel this shit right here
(g.b.!)
We're goin through the same thing
[ verse 1: willie d ]
Weapons bein loaded
a check
There's a secret society, all we ask is trust
No G money shit all we gots is us
True indeed, yes, more better, yes
More cheddar, S.P. chain,
try and stretch more
Charge less for, that ain't the program
Get ya lessons from the snow man
Like Pillsbury I get the doe man
I'll off ya head for
stepped in, then give you it but
But give you what?
The P the R the T for often come to teach the top but
Plus I be just enough? (Uh-huh) to manifest
ain't a P[retty] Rick[y] Maverick
Straight holes in your game, you squares can't Bob and weave w/a star, no Patrick
Don't try make a g insane; I'ma smoke
Raised, in the home, of the brave, and begun
Paving, the way, was embraced, by the slum
Labeled as strange, but his name, will become
Top
a fine chick that look just like LaToya
And I bet fifty G's on my boy De La Hoya
Tryin' to stay free with the loot they pay me
Boy I'ma vet and you still
and on a jack mission so don't get close to
The D-P-G gang 'cause we scandalous when we broke
We get the Doggs in us then we get to actin' like locs
(I've
won't survive in New York
I flow a mad thick like the sap from a tree
I'm of the live brothers represents G.P.
I'm hot like the sun, find shade I got
right upon arrival, G shit revival
Marathon goes on, mile by mile
R.I.P. to Nipsey
Shoutout to 50
Reppin that same last name as Biggie - WALLACE
Still
know I slide wit the indo
Had to pull the panties aside
I made some space in the ride so she could ride by the window
Baby work up my appetite, she put
couldn't control it
And I pop me two yellows, two beans, I be rollin'
We throw thirty opps in the grabba, no floaters
These niggas P, we keep it G
slow
Windows low
I was taught by the best to do the one
And gain control of this game
And be sold not told And So
I'ma rep for be -O-O-T see-A-M-P
Cause
the p-I-m-p in the fuckin front do'
One mo' nigga cuttin paper on the down low
It's so twisted in this white man's society
Why it be hard for a nigga when he
G, P-O-U-N-D, shit scorcher
Doing a video for a song that got blew outta porportion
I found he's the deadliest force in the world
Where it's all about
man, it's why the gyals wanna fuck with a G
I feel up the Rizla with green, let it steam while that bitch drop it low, let it pop
It's a southie boy
my blunt like a sea, nah
Nah
Me and bro, that's a two man step, don't leave Right, gonna end up left, I will rap the G
I can say that on my chest, I'm
wait
Walk in and blow when I step in it
I'm from the P and I'm repping it
Seen it with me that's a definite
That was your chick, better check on it
I
hear the car running
Tip the door man, so you know I got a gun in
Promoter already paid my money
I'mma make it rain on sugar and honey
Bigga baby
Yeah, I just shot a video in Yonkers nigga, shit crazy, huh?
And I grew up bumping that motherfucking D-Block
Styles P, you know I get high
That
Advocated by the few who do live it
Bloomberg, make a nigga cop the Mossberg
Shorty ain't a shorty, he a Shooter like Wahlberg
Old man told me, don't be,
by making this motherfuckin' world rock
Side to fuckin' silence bitch for years and man we still ain't stop
Still ridin' clean, makin' cheese
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