Lyrics:
a gangsta
These boys got you fooled, no they ain't gangstas
Better listen to me man, that's his marketing plan
For nearly three summers, I was known by
wifey don't take it by the uniform
Seen a lot of 10's, yeah but you the one
2, 3, you who I do it for
I'm in the 2-3, yeah I'm in the zone
Supa wifey,
that did it, expenses we spend it
Big faces explosive guns we smash out dunns
IM three coming through make way what you wanna do
Choose the fifth
has said this rap
G-g b cleanly, I sweep the debris
Lol, Haha, he-he
I'm old school like tape deck and CD
So cocky I trip balls, no one can beat me
I
And I only did three albums, still waiting on niggas to recoup
I really don't even see you rap niggas in my city
Unless it's LC, Kale, Wes, Clipse or Shad
I don't do lying in my raps g it's been challenging
Questions in my head like am I ever coming back again
Karn let's hit the studio nah let me get
MCs, how? To rhyme first
Of course you rap last, so you can show off your skirt
I guess it didn't work on "4 3 2 1"
You got out done by
I guess it didn't work on "4 3 2 1"
You got out done by Canibus the young gun
Your last weapon, is to call out Wyclef Jean
Not knowing that you
been trolling for the past three
Let em do some catching up cuz
I was feeling bad, G
Now I'm tired of playing
Think it's time for me to spa- man hold up,
to.(Strictly this game)
Verse 2 *(Black C)*
This rap game is what I'm talkin bout
I'm makin clout
and got G's in my bank accout
so what you thinkin bout?
feet
Switching V's, $50 G's is chicken feed
We in a different league, I cop my ice from Tiffany's
Drive-by's in the Lotus, the 6-speed
The 5th will bend
I need 4
Price not right
Going up and down like a see saw
Plugs on hold, tell him can you weigh it by the k g
Owed my bro tell him can wait K g
I
I need 4
Price not right
Going up and down like a see saw
Plugs on hold, tell him can you weigh it by the k g
Owed my bro tell him can wait K g
I
captivated by business
They call it Stockholm syndrome
The love is real but fake
I do chemsex, party and play
G on, cuddle puddles
Elon's Hall of Shame
Shady
of Pete Rock
But for that Benz I get CL love
So I switched my girls around like 3L dub
My favorite girl wanna leave me just
Because I got a girlfriend
My
what that mail like
Tell me what that mail like
Gotta live up to my rap as a G
Still countin' mail age twenty three
See me and Franklin they
everyday life is crime, a 9-to-5 of slangin rocks
9 millimetres, .3-80's, AK's and Glocks
Clockin major knots, I sit back and I watch it clock
Watchin in
Might be a big body Ghost or maybe a Hummer
These niggas on dick just talking bout nun
G Forty Three hit his ass like thunder
I do the whole dash under
shit all natural
I just need 3 baddies and a tall ass fashion hoe
The fakes speak out loud
But my shit really louder though
They can try to rap my
B-I-G up on the east shore
West coast lore
Curls and the glasses you know who to look for
Ludacris, I'm looting this and back down by my new axes
I pop
automatic rap Ruger
Clap back, I bleed for my brother you know
The wolves stay fed cause they
Feed on each other i got a G for a mother
Cynthia's son
Take
Balling on niggas like we in the playoffs
Get to the bag I ain't taking no days off
Killers on stand by feel like I'm Adolph
3-2-1 bitch ima take off
This isn't your average song
This isn't your average song
Your average song is three minutes long with a consistently smooth groove
a catchy tune
me in a chair and let me burn
But go to prison on a murder rap, fuck that
I refuse to be a visitor in state's camp
So I broke and left behind all
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