Lyrics:
the real vibes
And did it all wit my tribe
Still here like Nowitzki dawgo it's no surprise
I stood by the guys
These three's forever fly
Promise that
spot and we take your shit and run
Got my eye on my [?], it's just around the way
Searchin' for the dogs, no guards, so it's down to play
Judgin' by
outselling you
By 29 I had three albums that had blew
Now let's talk about somethin' I don't really do
Go in someone's daughter's mouth stealin' food
But
the devil knows I'm hotter
Ay, dios
See me, yeah, 3D, yeah, yeah, yeah with no glasses
Tell the pope to come see me
I got answers, by the masses
I ain't
get 'em every time
Ready 1...2...3...grind!
Big chain photo
Still beaming when you see me
HFM in 3D, hood beemer bump my CD
I'mma a creep, do some foul
me
That faggot that punk he soft or sissy
I driving around with three of my guys
The war is on and I'm on the rise
We rolled right up to dogg's
Money over hoes (that guap) 3 way nigga
I got niggas throwing 4s (3 way 4 way)
I got problems
I got niggas dead and gone (all my niggas)
I got young
They only hit my line, when they know it's go time
Fuck niggas flaws and rumors, three things we don't go by
Tell them boys to stop on by, they ain't
Shit let's be real thankful to be hea
Blinded by love and I still can't see clear
But I'm in grind mode bitch I got like three gears
Glad I put the beans
to be alive
Just think it all started you fussin' with three guys
Now ya pride in the way, but ya pride is the way
You could fuck around, get shot, die
all
Around these immortal grounds
Said it many times busters still can't see
Y'all niggas can't fuck with me i been
Handlin' stress in this shit for
arrogant
That money was staggering
They locked me PC with them trannies and rat
Man that shit was embarrassing
Twenty three hours in the cell by myself
Man
new ain't 'bout to change
I'm still gonna do it my way
Yeah I still remain
So tell me why you hate the game?
So tell me why you hate the game?
This
-If we was owned by the white folks it will be all good
-But we independent, black owned and making scrilla
-We a threat to society
-They ban our
raise this generation
My respect to the mother's that be holdin' it down
But it sure would be nice to have my daddy around
[Verse 1:]
All I need is
looking all around like if they felt threatened
It ain't no question what it was it ain't no question what it could've been
One Two Three
One Two Three
One
were down?
Would you still want me
Would you want me around?
So come all ye faithful and slaughter your lambs
Your minds have been whipped by
were down?
Would you still want me
Would you want me around?
So come all ye faithful and slaughter your lambs
Your minds have been whipped by
the air
If you see 'em ashy around the knuckles
Like the nigga wash half of his hands
And lotion three quarters of his body
Please say, "Put your hands
right
She says "one, you want a chicken sandwich
Two, you want a cheeseburger
Three, curly fries, and a large root beer"
Stop, don't go no further!
I
who I am
I'm still the young nigga with chains and a F on the tire
I knock on the wire you still like desire
I still ride around with the mother
said I'm still riding around blowing pressure I said it's still VVS's in the necklace
I said I still talk still, leave your breath I'm taking off in 60
being lonely
Wonder who gone stick around
Wonder who gone change up on Me
Don't know when I be down
By myself by my lonely
Devil just can't get up off me
The club close at five 'o'clock, we pulling up around three
Wood grain wheel gripping, Cinderella sipping
I like my jewelry golden like a piece of fried
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