Lyrics:
my mama buried her jitt for?"
(why did mama bury her jitt for)
Man you can't tell a young nigga with no daddy that that nigga aint a big boy
(woo)
I
watching a church
Gathering take place, looking boy
"Oy vey, that boy's gay!"
That's all they say, looking boy
You get a thumbs up, pat on the back
Yo these stories I spit, I seen 'em I wrote 'em
Like a teen that was boastin, "La Vida Loca" in
In his dream I awoke him, the Beamer I drove it
It was
a little somethin like this"}
[Redman]
Yeah, yo, check it out
I'ma walk in gutta, get that butter
Only dude with a weed sign on the chucker
Hood down, car
you can taste it a (a lil' bit)
If you like it (a lil' bit) you can have some more
Somebody tell honey I'm good, just like a licorice
Meth got 'em
it's a three be like that
Tell his ass to come right back to the block with a gat
Standing out in the track with a bumma hard
Bumming weed into
I learned more by that corner store
If you didn't know herione worth more than gold
Sick wit the flow this more than just a common cold
Can't stand
capreezy!
That boy there livin proof! And go on to stay off the heezy!
Not used to wearin suits... just levis t-shirts n beanies!
[Hook]
[Verse 3: E-40]
Uh!
where he stand, we live by law and we gon' lay it down
Tell me he want smoke, 187, that's that same shit
.357 send you to heaven, knock out your brain
grippin dem cities
I be flippin dem pennies
Turn em to good and plenty
I be strokin that pussy
I be smokin that kushie
I be flippin dem flounders
They
that niggaaaa!
Bow his ass up! (shawty)
Eastside throw it up, Zone-3 whatz up
If it ain't crunk then tell
That nigga back up mean mug in my face
bouncin', they love the way I be leanin'
They love the way I be leanin', they love the way I be leanin'
This is the year of the you, watch how I get on track
track bang, pimp hoe like good game
A goddamn shame, that boy there got good aim
Across the globe he got pulled like hair strains
Stat Quo the beast, Big
Cause the streets aint where it is, foreal
(Rxnel Verse I)
Face gated I aint gotta tell ‘em
Who I is
Drive-by’s, look
We aint catching Ubers here
Aye…
they yak can't hold me back
So baby, whassup with that? (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Tell me where the party at
[Timb]
Pick it pick it pick it
smoke
Revenge for your kin folks
I know how that shit goes
That's why I can't tell 'em who to spare Or who to spin for
Ugh
That shit get him heated every
down boy we don't play like that
Betta yet tell ya man to put down the gat
Before it get ugly, I'ma leave ya bloody, LIL BLOODY
Don't play with
(Memphis Track Boy)
(Huncho made this)
(Let's go)
Wham-wham, this shit hit like Lil Baby (wham-wham)
I'm on they neck like an apron (I got 'em
it's a three be like that
Tell his ass to come right back to the block with a gat
Standing out in the track with a bumma hard
Bumming weed into
the cause
its the S-Q boys wit the big fuckin cars
if anybody fuck wit my squadysquad
ima cut ya balls off and hand 'em to ya partnaz
its WEEZY BABY the man
I tell em be modest (Yo I try to be modest)
I tell em be modest (Man I tell em be modest)
But they like "Fuck that. Been getting my dollas
Bitch I'm
and how it sit on the rims
Or I could tell you why I'm hot and disappear like MIMS
But the bars there, put that on God, ask a atheist
And if I ain't
Im slidin out ger ribs
And she tell me tha rest
But i tell her whatever
Next time i drop by ima leave you a letter
Sayin weezy baby no one could do it
Like tell me where do I go
Tell me where do I go
Tell me where do I go from here, here
Tell me where do we go
Blinded by my ego
Like what the hell do
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