Lyrics:
soldiers, I thought I told ya
Let's get ready to rumble, them niggas stumble
Hit em with left blows
Fuck it got death blows
Ready to got to war? Let's go!
We
[Slim Thug][Hook: x 2]
When I hit the club all the girls show me love
While I'm at the bar, got drank by the jug
In the v.i.p with the chicks
to inaugurate
My PE conglomerates bout to p-e-e on any wanna b-e, weak MC
Air 'em out or leave 'em empty congratulate the semi-auto
Fire flame spitter like
ARTHUR: Well, I AM king...
DENNIS: Oh king, eh, very nice. An' how'd you get that, eh? By
exploitin' the workers -- by 'angin' on to outdated
that basement
Really whipping
Making future hits and
Now I here em dissin
I advise that you should keep your distance
Stuck inside the middle
I
ain't taking sides
Guess it's time to say good bye, hit the block & make it mines
Got a p of weed (p off weed) & an o of soft (o of soft)
Imma get it sold
on them pills
Dade County dope-boy, best believe I'm 'bout dat doe
Chose come up get em yep, we ain't really by that def
Yeah, I'm the future, got
my feelings
I'm doing the dash
Choppa in the back
Hit a nigga with a Mac
Chokin on his blood
Like I hit em with a lasso
Break a bitch back
Then I hit
and umm
Fuck a A-C-T, R-C-T or S-A-T
Cause a nigga like me, ain't get no P-H-D
I'm wanted by the A-T-F, plus the I-R-S
Put you in E-M-S, bloody like P
Clifton get a back pack
With a fat back give give her ass a little slap slap
Hit that lil bitch from the back back with my hat back
Now applaud give her
respect
I'm not a on my back ho, I ride the dick and hit it 'til it cold
Bust expensive nuts, get 'em up
I'm a Sagittarius freak, my real hoes feel me
nigga, c'mon, take that out, please
Oh shit bitch, this is how dog get down
Hands in the air whenever dog hit town
Put 'em up, come on, put 'em up, come
supercritical
A high freq is the vision I'm so instrumental
She give me love I need, this The High3st Fr3qu3ncy!
She know that I'ma P money only thing I ever
back from Philly
So I was rollin' blunts all day
So I had to get it nigga in the hallway
Nigga I already know I was headed to the top
By 9 o'clock
pistols, they still packin'
Have them dope fiends dialin' for crack
A drive by shootin' em' P, seven ain't shit
Brothers on the Southside ain't to be messed
the fast-lane gotta be spinnin em up
(X-caliba *echo*)
[Verse 1: Brotha Lynch Hung]
It all started when I twisted the lid of the Olde E
And see
to get 'em up with two thugs
Runnin' side by side with number one
Murder mo drop my gauge on 'em
When the po-po chase,
If they catch me barehanded I'm
and we won't get hit, geah
We got the ho's locked down
Half ounce in the house
It's like this
Mon diggi
Yo
Stick 'em
[mon-diggi]
My visions outta focus
well-rounded
When you were lacing em' up and I was still astounded
Cause what sensational luck, get buckets, rob the fountains
Ascended every mountain, I been
silk enough to shock ya
Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a
If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial
Be downtown swinging, m.o.p. style
Next
between or get hit G
Red light, green light, one two three
Out for the dash, but in the flash, you shoulda let me pass
'fore crash, now that ass is in
is real
And what you talk ain't making sense
I got 10 toes on the ground
Can't relate cuz you's a clown
I got P's on P's on P's
Bring em in and get em
for my folks, vice, lords, and kings
All the trappers, future rappers, standin' out on the blocks
Tryna get up out the hood mayne, and stack 'em a knot
up get em yep, we ain't really by that def
Yeah, I'm the future, got the goons 'round me
And yeah I rep my city, bitch
I'm from Dade County
Ay!
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