Lyrics:
Soulja Boy Tell 'Em
Baby, you know that I miss you, I wanna get with you tonight
But I cannot, baby girl, and that's the issue
Girl, you know
to die but I don't wanna be next
I wasn't shit so I made the world call me fresh
I tell em Cautions calculate ya steps
Nobody's giviin hand outs better
from my home
They be calling up my phone (Prrr)
I be quick to put em on hold (Noo noo)
They be really mad at me when I tell em that it's sold
I remember
She can tell by my stance I ain't bout to dance
Caught that boy on ice, think I might take my chance
Drag mans out of his place, a nigga don't leave
and this my year
Na this my mellineum i got em
Soulja Boy Tell Em' That the name on my colladids
i sit back if a nigga disrespect
then he diseased RIP
rest
smoke (Oh Yeah)
Finna pull up on a nigga with a glock (Raaw Pow)
Snitches gon carry stitches that's for sho (Skrr)
These niggas don't know what hit em
Soulja Boy Tell 'Em
Baby, you know that I miss you, I wanna get with you tonight
But I cannot, baby girl, and that's the issue
Girl, you know
play, eh
Nah this no be play
This no be play
Bad boy wey me I dey push
Give me some space make I roll up the(ssss)
I moved to the yard shit no be cool
I
lackin’
Pistol packin’, we gon’ hit between his arms wit’ a hammer
Bakin’ soda, my lil’ soulja, knock ‘em over, get ‘em right
Late at night we pop out, we
the colorss fool, I'm in the streets for real
I'm giggin' on these hoes, do 'em like dominos
I slam 'em on they back, and tell 'em, vámonos
I wanna rock
the colorss fool, I'm in the streets for real
I'm giggin' on these hoes, do 'em like dominos
I slam 'em on they back, and tell 'em, vamanos
I wanna rock
Soulja Boy tell em.
Uhh, bitch I look like Goku.
Bitch I look like Vegeta, im hoppin out that oldschool.
'64 Impala, swagged up.
Bitch I'm poppin
by the gang
(pow, pow, pow)
Seven grand blunt, lick it like a cigar (shuh)
I'm with your bitch when I hop out the car (shkurt)
You talking that shit,
Bitch I'm da dope boy
Cuban link
A White tee
N sum Soulja rees
This shit like monopoly
Double up my money
Kick my seat back
Bitch I'm blowin trees
down the road
Right by the ocean
I got bitches (swag) on my toes (Dre)
(Pretty boy swag) Pretty boy swagging on
You fucking hoes (I do this)
This one for
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…
eye everytime I
Ride by and they're looking at the charm
I laugh at em like that, with
My seat laid all the
All the way to the back
And the heat lay
"Bigger Picture"
[Cam'Ron]
Killa, Uh Huh
Heatmakerz,Yes Sir
Jones, Santana, Freekey, The Union
Holla At Da Boys Man Uh Huh
This Is Diplomat Records
Soulja Boy Tell 'Em hopped up out the bed turn my swag on
Took a look in the mirror said what's up
Yeah I'm getting money oh
Hopped up out
I got Hood ass homies
Been toting the glocks
And they gone shoot 'til I tell em to stop
Bitch, I been a Hot Boy so the
Cold don't fect me
I'm from New Orleans
you on that map, boy
Newtown was arenas
Pow, pow, pow, skat, boy
Shootin' down your heater
Cause if you want it, then it's raps, boy
Swear that I won't
get deep with 'em
And when it comes down to drugs, I'm in the streets with 'em
Look
I'm the youngest Hot Boy on the field with heaters
Let my
right on top of me
Pilf my way to the lottery
I'd say on God, no stopping me
Can't stop a G, cuz honestly
Dem lad try body me got bodied
Tell em, tell em
shit really the
best for em nigga this song is ass i ain't going for
real this ain't really my best for oh he wanna
touch my ice pow pow nigga fuck
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