Lyrics:
from under the tummy, busting a Tommy
Or come from under your garments, yo chest and your arm hit
Pow, one to the head now you know he dead
Now you
from under the tummy, busting a Tommy
Or come from under your garments, yo chest and your arm hit
Pow, one to the head now you know he dead
Now you
in your shell about a dozen
You never see bank like Frank White
Your hand clutchin, your chest-plate contemplate
You 'bout to die, nigga wait, keep yo
bitch, you call her that
And I'ma break yo neck
And if you tired of his lyin, tired of his games
Come and walk with me, come and talk with me
Come walk
social distant, hoes like, "When you not trippin'?"
I duck the party, who said they saw me?
Crown on Bob Marley, wrist on Yo Gotti
They gon' judge your
I'm like Gotti to him, I throw the shotty to him
Niggas don't want it with L, they like, "Anybody but him!"
Where Brooklyn at?
Yo, BK don't play
a party ahk
Fuck a cop catch a body call it body rock
Blowing sticky on my grizzy call it milli rock
Mind yo bizzy before I smoke you like extended glocs
Yeah it's pretty cool
Alright but that was hot
But when you go from that to lyin'
'bout been sponsored by a condom packet
It's safe to say your career's
in my Chevy 'Vette
Nah, you ain't ready yet, wetter than yo' girl get
Dolce 'Bana, Dolce shades, don't you wanna see the boy
See the boy, see
on the streets
No gloves pullin' knives out the 'fridge handin' out cold cuts
Ugh streets real thug so recognize thug close yo' eyes thug
You 'bout to die thug!
Don't try to stop me, you know I'm the GOAT
She call me poppy when I make a toast
Feel like John gatti, all black in the rolls
Ducatis and Gottis when I'm
kinds of shit
I used to get pussy like eazy eric every day
You're mothafuckin' lyin'
How you know I'm mothafuckin' lyin'?
You're lyin', your dick
When they took that from me, since I had my nose runny
I was out past sunny, had the strap by my tummy
You can go and ask mommy, grab a body bag,
When they took that from me, since I had my nose runny
I was out past sunny, had the strap by my tummy
You can go and ask mommy, grab a body bag,
day
I opened, I read it, and this is what it say
It's time for you to get yo' stack right
The bitch don't act right, whatever put that bitch on the next
Yo yo, you heard what happened to that dude yo
(You don't want to wind up, with your head tied up)
The nigga got his head blown the fuck out
soon as I said it, seems I got sweated
By some nigga with a TEC-9, tryin' to take mine
You wanna make noise? Make noise
I make a phone call, my niggas
soon as I said it, seems I got sweated
By some nigga with a TEC-9, tryin' to take mine
You wanna make noise? Make noise
I make a phone call, my niggas
yo' ass up
You know where we comin' from
Death Row! BIATCH! Ha ha hahaha!
A yo, Kurupt, you first to blast, nigga
And you know how we do it
you dig it?
You fed you dead see red
My lead yo head I fed
Like you shit
I got rhymes push that shit like weight
My nigga Lincoln help me
And you betta put a low jack on yo ho mane
I just call her boo
I don't know her whole name
Keep it on the low mane
All we eat is lo mien
Came from
Happy holidays
Let me come here and talk to you
I gotta stop sayin' I'm not doin' this shit no more knowin' I'm cappin'
(Great John on the beat by
of the George ave do work in the lab
Test my experiments out on the ave
They got you thinkin' but they lyin' anyways
So when they gossipin' about us they got
lookin like a novice to me
Now quit talkin to me
Can I vet? All you niggas
Sound retarded to me
Killin these niggas, I'm a general nigga
Turn yo head
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