Lyrics:
[Verse 1]
Get Loose
Vanilla Ice is here with the juice
No use for steppin' so give the bass a boost
Produced by the 3 man crew
Not a deuce just a hit
nails done
Tour dates start tomorrow, MCI send the cash through Wells Fargo
Black Elvis, 28 G's a night
Tour bus with the Motley Crue, who
doctor
Only Sebi on this beat
Life rap for the people, concoction for the g's who worse than me
Only serious favor is they listen to my frees
I hope for
(That's right)
My young G's puttin' in work with his borer
Causin' trauma, I was so surprised (Ayy)
Slim got four for the price of one
Tell your friends
I'm like, "How many man got fried?" (How many?)
T1's on the wing, just got done the opp, done it so disguised (that's right)
My young G's puttin' in
The Rap God I do this
Talented down to my roots bitch
Chopped samples on my piano
Acapella acoustic
Smooth shit
Why you worried bout what I do bitch
Get
boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom
Ayo
(Griselda)
Brr brr brr
(By Fashion Rebels)
Ayo, I don't leave without my pistol warm
Drive-bys, I'm
and I keep it a hundred G
I'm that block on fire, it's like a hundred and three
Rappers come a dime a dozen but they don't come in tha peace
I only
Today we're gonna do something scary
We're venturing into the mind of young black males
Let's take a peak...
[ Young Lay ]
Cuddies perved by
superman on these beats
My flow is Christopher, B.I.G. Rios and Reeves
I’m in a league all by my lonely the only one bringing heat
I’m spitting fire on these
where I come from, who's my friends?
Who's responsible for this little spot that I'm in?
Yo, I see them all playing in my car when I drive by
Telling all
Twenty-three a gram nigga, let's do the deal
Representin the Stock Family
I don't really care how big you get pussy, you can't handle me
Won't say I'm
feat. Young Buck)
[Trick Daddy:]
Our father who art in heaven
Hallowed thy be thy name, thy kingdom come
All our G's would've been gone
it
Get to buzzin in yo city like a hornet
Have everybody fuckin wit me by the morning
And I ain’t got no time for some rap beef
Cause I’m just tryna
time
T three,T three
Hit the road, made a way
Tryna make it, through the day
On my knees, better days
Getting paid, that's the aim
Still a G
[Verse 3 - Sir Mix-A-Lot]
Criticized by the main stream
For not bein the house jig and keepin things squeaky clean
But I can't, so I ain't
But I won't play
play, but you not winning bruh
I be sweating when I rhyme, Under Armour raps
Don't even got a money throne, I need some larger stacks
And I can tell by
situation
Influenced by the streets (La calle)
No leach in my campaign
All my niggas eat, ay
When I rap, I speak in tongue
I don’t do it for the fun
Boutta
trees
Rap is for dick suckers and
Divas I don't recall these
Type of niggas living and breathing
But I reside that
Eastside 17th streets of the G I
broken (No breaks)
2018 now the beast has awoken (Hungry)
I rap and I sing and they thought I was joking (Okay)
I rap and I sing and they thought I was
hustling on these streets, ain't had a chance to speak
But you know, with you and me it's on G
We could never be enemies, cause you been such a good friend
I'm Top D-O-G number 3
You know from the O.G.C.
That blow trees fuckin with them Cocoa be 's
We OD's fuckin with them Cocoa be 's
[Buckshot]
Fuck
really buy anything that sells
Don't go broke tryna be like me or try so hard that you end up in jail
I
I live what I rap I don't live my life by abiding
BITCH!)
We on some shit boy/
[Verse 1: Tarek]
Heard a knock knock on the door, glock cocked by the floor/
Pop shots if it’s war, blocks hot like a whore/
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