Lyrics:
Oi, you know this man, the only thing this man knows is gym and Hennessey, okay
So please don't fucking let us down at this point, Brixton
Because
say
I said come eat the dick she said Ok
(Okay)
That lil money you flipping is short cake
But I'm thick in the mix like a sorbet
I'm big gang I don't do
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:
Triple-six, come in my mix, flood it with tricks
I'm sharper than rough spoons for icepicks
Niggas price bricks till dawn, if the money is long
Cats who play
a man
When I met Ann, I soked her pans
We ended up freakin' by garbage can
The next young freak I met was Red
I took her to the house and she gave me
rare over by Cherson, Cherson,
we calcify fathers here below
a watery cross, with weeds
entwined
This grins restoredly,
low sleep
Wave
Oh, no,
shush
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
Got my quirks and they work, new shorts and they’re short
Rep so many cities and we’re putting in that work
Cooling by day, and we ride at night
You
one seen us
On Pokey's burger -- everything on it -- even penis
But Kirk Pone went and told the man
1991 Grilled Cheese Tour -- a message to the B.A.N.
shit
Know what it is we keep it jumpin (gang shit)
Girls in wildin all night
Pourin up the drank we gone mix it wit da Sprite
Do it ri-ri-ri-ght
brother to be paid that's not my trade
It's just the plan that is designed by the colored man
Now our babies are born to think this is the way of us (Way
after
May reveal once captured
Stay present money's not the true master
G code comes with damage when breached by a hacker
Make everyone calm by being
What?
You say what?
The president did what?
Ah man, that's hey, that's all good baby
He got rid of the player haters too?
Ah man, we need
see my man, then he gotta go fly
Straight to the money, I ain't tryna go sleep
All by myself, one deep trying to creep
Got the antidote for a big tough
have sex for money, the hood don't love me
The cops wanna kill me, this nonsense built me
And I got no place to go
They bomb my village, they call us
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
on man
Talking short term goals to get to plans
I'm going ham so my son skips the spam
When it goes up eventually the shit'll land
So I stick to plans
to Juice man, 21 that's too damn young
Fly high like you Zeus man, fuck the feds oh woah
Canadian goose man mix it with some Saint Laurent
Sipping on some
Wooooo!
St Elmo came with another nasty one
This is the end (LOV up in the mix)
Since ya'll dont want us to begin
(So you better cuff yo bih!)
This
short temper to cool out
Yeah sometimes I need woosah, time to get paid by the goo-ghaas
My office on top of that rooftop, for my mama Myra Anderson
Tell
at that man, he the one made us rich
You ain't the only millionaires on the block no more
Your money is old nigga, smell that? That's new money nigga
We
brother to be paid that's not my trade
It's just the plan that is designed by the colored man
Now our babies are born to think this is the way of us (Way
ridin or you dyin cause we swingin iron
Lox and Poppa, turning niggaz into Jim Hoffa
Who gon stop us, it's your last joint double copper
You gettin money
What up, okay if you ain't know it be one of the best of all time
Busta bust for short, for some better know me bust' rhymes
(What's good?) maintainin'
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