Lyrics:
it up for the summer time, pull out the drop
Top if you wanna shine
Where the 6-4's at where the Regals at, where them drop
Tops at and them Cadillacs
on
Buck
Gotta put it up for the summer time, pull out the drop
Top if you wanna shine
Where the 6-4's at where the Regals at, where them drop
Tops
on
Buck
Gotta put it up for the summer time, pull out the drop
Top if you wanna shine
Where the 6-4's at where the Regals at, where them drop
Tops
to ball
Rin's you can't afford, name a clothes line, I done worn it all
To dictate the naked soul of Nas, Henny, four-five
Hoes with thick thighs be
weapons in the trunk, bitch, take your pick
Stick a grenade up under your fender
Stick a pineapple bomb in ya blender, I don't care about you
You say
at a redbone
Smokin on some cactus
Sippin on some super duper extra strength
A buck fifty a shot louie the thirteenth
Head hard as a rock stop by the barber
In the black bucket hearse with the rusty grill a chrome
Pickin' up the homies, we get em one by one
If you ain't psychopathic ryda boy you cannot
leave him for Atrice
[Lac]
Look, I'm a gangsta, hustler, hoodlum (slow down)
I came with the four pounds (pounds)
So fucking let it go down (go
(schh) paire de (woah)
Drive-by, BM, double (woah)
Tout est (woah) c'est l'9-(woah)
Le Prince rafale sur le Roi
J'sors le (woah) tout le monde (woah)
the dead shall rise for carnage...
They come...From the grave
They come...From the grave
Scattered remnants of mankind lies at their feet
A threat to all
chose up, ay (yeah, yeah)
Now I'm spendin' racks on a four by four truck (yeah, yeah)
I don't hang with emotionals
Big rock band, walk around for
at the State Theater
In the door by the side
Throw you in the trunk and found a preacher for you
Cause I thought you had unlawful demons on you
Sinkin fast
don't never come fake
I'm 'bout to hit Dove Way, just past Troy's
I'm dippin' by myself, I'm 'bout to call up my boys
I pass up the corner I see some
Grandmaster Flash, Spoonie G and the Treach' Three
Fearless 4, spirit of hip-hop was etched in me
See, I was down, brah, but let me get down to
V-Town I was
[Chorus: x4]
Groupie ass
Bitch type of niggas can't fade me
They're callin' me a lunatic
But murder ain't crazy
in the distance listening to the slaughtering of there own.
So fear and stress sets in as the other groups approached the slaughter house led by
really hot
I'm swanging four's and thinking thoed, banging hoes and changing clothes
Smoking dro and doing shows, paper stack can never fold
I bought
want to jump, jump
Get'cha make ya pump, Paul
Still gon' miss ya bump, bump
Off a nigga fakin'
Goin' to a richin'
Bitches turn to shaken
Mafioso rule by
my money
Staying high, doing business, like the gass
By any means necessary, we gon get the cash
The fast money come in quick, get you hit
In your
come I haven't gone broke yet?
I tell 'em it's cause I'm the flyest backpacker ever
I'm flyer than Mos Def in a Drumpf tower surrounded by four chefs
the water and grits
They got another boy who can rhyme and do the fly flips
And that's I high I better get by because my ally
about to flip that crazy shit
Mary Anne and Wanda were the best of friends
All through their high school days
Both members of the 4H club, both active in the FFA
After
or Bentley
Beamer, Benz, or Bentley your scheming don't affect me
I'm fresh, I'm fly, I'm so damn high
More than 500 horses when I roll by
I'm calm, I'm
Threw it in the back
Coming out from my room
Just to clear the track
So I'm back, on my, shit
Little, bitch, watch your, lip
Got it back around 4 times
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