Lyrics:
illustrated by myself
All of em narrated by myself
either let me breathe or get DDT'd,
Do you smell what the rock is cookin on ebt
I been schemin on it
beef
Telling big big man best pick up the pace
Me I know 6 foot 6 big guys that are
Not on job but just lift up the weights
And I know 5 foot 10 small
never change they remain the same
P-A-T and E-S-G and M-O-E gone bang
Rolling
(Chorus 2x)
(Big M.O.E.)
Chop chop-pas
Coming down I'm a G
Chop chop-pas
never change they remain the same
P-A-T and E-S-G and M-O-E gone bang
Rolling
(Chorus 2x)
(Big M.O.E.)
Chop chop-pas
Coming down I'm a G
Chop chop-pas
remain the same
P-A-T and E-S-G and M-O-E gone bang
Rolling
(Chorus 2x)
(Big M.O.E.)
Chop chop-pas
Coming down I'm a G
Chop chop-pas
Gotta feel that
she's a fleas bag
I'm worth ten mill, fa sho we brag
We ride on motor bikes, and floss big Jags
Splurge in the mall, and come out with big bags
A potent
big body Benz it's the navigators
In the hood, servin freaks like I'm a restaurant waiter
Blue lights on the Jag cus I love to shine
Keep it by my
jacket with lights in the back of it
Custom made by the kids who sew and makes clothes for Prince and Sisqo
I'm 2004 beyond the average club music
thuggin from tha day to the night, ya heard me? Huh? Ok? Yeah. DJ what's
up dawg? (x1)
Chorus 2:
Hey DJ won't you play that song keep me thuggin
three hundred plus up
and actually took some pride to the shit, and didn't rush none?
{C.I.}
Yo.. when it comes to big chicks, C.I. plead the fifth
dreams, dreams, dreams
Big dreams, dreams
I get money like Junior Mafia used to
On my way to school ten thousand in my FUBU
Lunchtime, I was sellin' behind
take off them twenties and put them big 23's on
Watchin' the latest DVD's with the TV's on
It's hot AC in winter can turn your heat on
You hear them
on 'em
Write on 'em
Candle light homie
Tuck your chain cause I'm Deebo on the bike homie
Blac Youngsta big worm, call that Draco smokey
Real chain
Bitch ass nigga, I told you so
A nigga get mad, I fold his hoe
Big AKs like GI Joe
Niggas be fake like CGI
Most niggas bootleg like DVDs
They don't
by me, I want a lil' face
Think about it, I don't want relations with the lil' skank
Not Tay-K but I'm on the race
Big desert eagle, keep it on my
Guy, and (???)
I'm that fly, with big guns, that splat guys
I shit pies, van diesel, triple X, I
And pull deadly stunts, just like I'm Left Eye
Ain't,
hereditary
Red canaries round the cemetery
Mixing ups with my downs sometimes
Pokey like I'm columbine
They can't see the little guys
They sink low while they
and EBT (sheesh)
No cable, just a bootleg DVD
I quit school and got my GED (I'm out)
I went straight to the block
Started trappin', Mama said she ain't
Listen to B, I am the
Original S-K B-I-Z, RRAHHAAAAHAHHHHHHH
[Chorus]
You can do the hokey pokey or even the wop
I don't care what you do baby,
settle in
I'm a spin 3 more times till' I get it in
I'm a make it rain like Ashanti in 06
I'm a pour a 4 of sum wonky like 0 10'
Bitch want to bug me she
Live by the code, die by the code
Never been a hoe, bury me before I sell my soul
Live by the code, die by the code
Never been a hoe, bury me
keep a big fifth stashed in the whip dash
Trip, catch six in a second like quick flash
Bitch pass if you ain't
Lettin' the clique smash
I switch tags
One move we all eat
That’s word to the big homie
I was getting fuel for the new heat
You smart if you didn’t quit on me
Got the rock make the kids OD
pokey let my soul bend up
Grown to be sixty-five inch
Short to swing, this hood sport is the cinch
Indeed I rap
Ghetto folk'll snatch your soul intact
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