Lyrics:
you crashing the whip
Laughin at hoes, taking fakerss to amateur flicks
While the Ill Bill albums kidnapping your kids
[Chorus � Ill Bill
and quarter pounds down to ozones
(Who you?) I'm Dat Nigga, D-A to the Z (uh-huh)
A motherfuckin' playa, for the D-P to the G
Connectin' lyrics like dot
Slice a nigga's chest and watch it ooze like there's a cyst in it
I get three hundred thousand an album and a Insta' pic
Been seeing some man grinding
an attempt to defend you end up unkempt
Plus this agent get orange E-L-P-F-see-F rock for you
First cousin to sling red dye number five be the potion
They
'boutta hit this muhfuckin' album
(Oh oh-Oh, yeah yeah yeah yeah, whoa)
Yeah-Yeah-Yeah-Yeah
I done seen a lot of things, yeah yeah
Nowadays, sit
of a magazine ain't even got a album out
Hop at da streets my delete cuh my hits out
Now I'm da one everybody wanna talk about
Hustle hard ball harder dats wat I
Millionaire Made be the Gang, 22 hundred For a P,
Want 320 for Zip,
3.5 going for the $50 this just real nigga Business,
Ion think these niggas hear me,
One
thing
One man dream
To get 1 2 "P"
Hustle hard, cause
Rewards aren't free (3)
Only got like 4 hours sleep
I hate coffee, but I need Caffeine
Work more
God just prunin' gotta go for a trim
Yeah, it's the Preachas, I'm rolling with Chae
Not walking by sight, I'm walking by faith
P.K. on my hat, so you
man got 10 mail man got 3
And just your luck the rap game got me hold up
[Juelz Santana]
Here we go again just spent a hundred of that brown paper
the number one album, ou
And I told 'em all I'm excited, ouu
And I told 'em all that they righteous, ouu
All you gotta do is be with Christ (facts!)
Niggas
number, we ain't fucking with the pigs
One two three four five six, Chasemoney in this bitch, I can't be fucked with
Seven eight nine ten eleven, Nigga we
life praying on dat get back
They be looking up to Three nah homie dats a fact
If I stand up on this brick nigga I'm tall like Shaq
I grab a bitch by
I said i'm not worth shit
I put the work in
Made it perfect
Herb lit, locked in Ollie up the curb smooth as cursive
Curses
calvy p popping, polo
Shit, I'm a changed man
Ayy, turn the lights out
Big baller 2Pac up in this bitch
You know how we swing this shit, look
By age sixteen I sold
There's a difference 'tween you and me
You got one bitch, I'm over here with three
My number two is your bitch, and she's all up on me
We talk 'bout you
a drum n a switch can't even aim the shit
I Call her shorty number 3 I can't even name the bitch
They wanna another club song shorty wanna shake some shit
jours Mardi Gras
Grosse bécane, casque intégral, ça Drive-By à la parisienne!
On pense qu'à faire du cash donc sa braque à la parisienne!
Number One
you're slapped
At five you're just wacked
At four you're lost
At three, you're just soft
At two you're an ass
At one, you're a dick
But before you
No Ceilings 3
I'm on your block with money on top
Black Lives Matter, what's up with these cops?
I'm spittin' this fire, I do not aspire
Just
On the Foothill bust number forty-three
All the way on the back she was workin' me
Had my big beatbox and I was jammin' the beat
I met this freak named aunt
Swanging out the ride
Gripping like the tires
It's album number 6 and I still got em by the neck and shit
Another album
More drip
So I got a new necklace
Ion
limit after that so I did my Master P thing
Middle fingers to my enemies
Working on "The Documentary" with Nate Dogg sipping my Hennessy
First thing I
Mr. Big Dreams no tolerance
Cut you at the house and haven't hollered since
Get bored quickly
He stay grown
So the p-a-tron had to get poured
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