Lyrics:
Willie was my cab
I was hated in the hood Yo by all the mothers
I used to, deliver food Yo my six brothers
Robbing Chinese food man, me and my crew
White paid his dues
Ask who's the raw, bet they say Poppa very
Look forward to me like commissary
All of a sudden, now every-body Big Willie
Done did
White paid his dues
Ask who's the raw, bet they say Poppa very
Look forward to me like commissary
All of a sudden, now every-body Big Willie
Done did
Annoyed and we brain washed
Mind getting fucked by a chainsaw
I seen the future in my home girl
Went into her own world and
Got a little nigga 2 years later
on me wrong ima start to get the Shooting
Nobody wanna kum around him he alone by Hisself
Did everybody around him wrong now he crying out for Help
John
insane
The pillow talk goes both ways
Just like me it goes both ways
Guess who was agreeing and giggling when I said it
Friends close, enemies closer
What
would burn me
Feds'll lock me up and throw away the key
But my word is bond, that's the code of the street
If I walk the walk, talk the talk, sling
the courts'll burn me
Feds'll lock me up and throw away the key
But my word is bond, that's the code of the street
If I walk the walk, talk the talk, sling
really need you, so
Let's talk about you and me
Let's talk about tonight, baby
Let's talk about all the good things that could happen if you leave with me
fucking god
Put that tongue back around that do that little thing you do ooh
If you wanna talk baby talk to me
Don't make it hard for me don't make it hard
by the day
everybody's talking saying that we're all this
So we should give her something to talk about
Talk about
Talking
About it
It's something
to see me
Like John Cena
High jab ya, huh, then wrap you like a turban
Pack a Stan in a can and ship him to Eminem
And say "Dax needs a feature" and
Pray
rap fans?
Nobody
I don’t take talk from nobody
Gyal give me ugh she too mixed up
She tell everybody
Man posting pics with a Nokia
That that ain’t
Excuse me for having ethics, I don't eff with little toys
I learned to scratch on phonographs [?]
A killjoy, crying over spilled soy milk
I destroy
Really tell me what I gotta do to get you to talk about (talk about)
'Cause it's been getting a little too long for you not to talk about (oh)
So tell me
Said he miss me every time I leave him
I been switching em out by the season
So much ice on my heart that bitch freezing
Burr
You chasing ngas, ngas
a hustler Nigga!)
The hustler in me
Verse 3
[Sparks]
Omilio, Omilio wooo
I talk greazy to pricks like
One yourself scrapper
I'm king Willie, stay
The farthest thing from harbor shit, be honest with me, listen
You know if I want it, I be John Gotti with the henchmen
Right? I mean, it's simple math, a bit
class with a fake Birkin that's a hot purse (hot)
Don't get your head tapped for a little feature money, just a hot verse
Got me a little shooter nigga
and shells in the lambskin
Two deep by Pelle Pelle
Westside how they felly fell
More G's on me, than a late 80's Gucci leather
Worn by the great Rakim
want a straight person
But I'm like that wavelength
I guess I'm burnout
Maybe a little burnout
And I won't talk about that festival anymore
So what
Really tell me what I gotta do to get you to talk about (talk about)
'Cause it's been getting a little too long for you not to talk about
So tell me what
Really tell me what I gotta do to get you to talk about (talk about)
'Cause it's been getting a little too long for you not to talk about
So tell me what
yacht
So does the gang
By six like drake
By eight like Willie
How many signs do you need before you feel me
And we was supposed to been leave
But we still
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