Lyrics:
shit was raised by the G code
Learned quick that it's a cold world we living in
Like Jordan in the 4th last shot I had to get it in
(Swish)
My
here, yeah, round here, yeah
We blowin dro, gettin low round here, yeah
[Verse 2 - Trick Daddy]
It's hot as hell, but it snows down here
You get
back
1 2 1 2
Ah yo yo
My, lyric is 8 ball
Batter up play ball
Fuck ya'll analog
Niggas we be digital, subliminal, come in
From the 5 star general
,
Any car that's available hop out guns out,
Naw we ain't scared of you
Yea it's true, you should see what clip bananas do,
Run up in your crib ain't
running up
I cannot walk with a rat, a snake; whatever you call it I don’t fuck with fakes
I gotta get to a plate, stack it up and get the cake; We Just
Run
the way down South (YEAH!)
I ain't Mike Jones, keep my name out'cha mouth bitch (Mike Jones)
We can get it crackin if it get to clickin clackin
Look
all the way down South (YEAH!)
I ain't Mike Jones, keep my name out'cha mouth b**** (Mike Jones)
We can get it crackin if it get to clickin
all the way down South (YEAH!)
I ain't Mike Jones, keep my name out'cha mouth b**** (Mike Jones)
We can get it crackin if it get to clickin
by ya address for some weeks I can’t mistake it
Like I can close my eyes & recite ya license plate letter placement
Been itching, to make you
and cocaine sold separate, check it
From sundown to sunup -- clown and run up
The Aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?
We roll deep, smoke on weed
! Cops got, guns!
They givin' out life like by the tons
Run! If you ain't do shit, you it
That next felony, nigga, it's like three zip
So, run! Hop
(Skrrt) pistol whip you with it 'til
I break the pistol (Boom)
I'ma get you, I'll hit you with a missile
(Boom) run up, close range, I can't miss you
(Boom,
I was taught to keep it 1000 my soul comin out dick her down & keep it a G have these hoes run dey mouth keep a pole or two around its some bows in
get it
Remind you I'm out here wit my niggas
No pistol but got weed and a whole lotta liquor
Hit the club line long we skip that cuz we the alphas
It's murda, you know when we come
Niggaz it's murda, ain't nowhere to hide
It's murda, ain't no where to run
Niggaz it's murda, I-N-see is gon ride
the bottom two, let my wisdom work it out
Big on the underground, can't knock me down
Vicki Leekx bitches, back by dope demand
I sleep on my talent and I
leveled up
Leveled up
Only got time to run it up
Run it up
And we bout to run it
Run it up
Only got time to burn it up
Burn it up
And we bout to burn it up
you die for me
If we get into it, would you cry for me
If the opps behind, would you slide for me
If I was down bad, would you ride for me
Pistol by my
there/Pistol on the counter chopper by the stairs/I be makin' fee I be makin' fare/Get it poppin ni**a we can take it anywhere
Verse 2:
Get it poppin' ni**a we
nizzle, you gon' get hizzle
Relax by the kizzle
An' go get us a couple hizzles
You dizzles
Yeah with Muggs
What it is
Sen Dog!
Keep it real gangster
straight out on the Bad Boy camp
You know how we do it
All my real homeboys in New York keep thuggin'
All the rest of you bustas die slow!
Verse Two
By my side, by my side, by my side
Niggas ain't really with me, when it's time to go slide
They say they got semi's, if we slide, we gone die
Pistol
squad we trapping
Aye C-bone gone slap this nigga, he
Ain't bucking, he just yapping, yea
Say, we took it from packing the pistols
To jacking this
The great Irish surgeon and the Manhattan whore
Got a highway to hell that run right by the door
That young Billy rode west on as a dangerous teen
cnd Oscar
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