Lyrics:
and we been playa hated (say what?)
I don't know and I don't know why, why they want us faded
I don't know why they hate us (yeah)
Is it our ladies
and we been playa hated (say what?)
I don't know and I don't know why, why they want us faded
I don't know why they hate us (yeah)
Is it our ladies
action
They don't want the smoke or the traction
We only react to reactions
I hear them talking I barely be listening
My money talking no giggling
Keeping
you need a man to make you feel secure then baby
You ain't gotta look no more I got the cure
You want money and jewels (jewels)
You want clothes
I need to find myself
Lord willing I'll redefine myself
More reason to multiply myself
Lord help me
Don't leave me by myself
Nah I ain't by myself
I
B
Cause whats a hoe with no pimp, and whats a pimp with no hoe
Dont be a lame, you know the game and how it goes
We tryin to get jones
[Chorus]
lit
Got Davey jones all on my wrist
She thought she scored
But then she miss
They listen in like government
Niggas want a bone but we got picks
Tryna
way, bodyguard by my biscuit
Make money, lose money never afraid to risk it
I don't get writers block, I block other writers
Spittin' fire like if I
it is, East West all day
I go by the name of- ahh don't worry 'bout that
(All around the world) Come take a trip, ma
(All around the world) Come
why I rock wit' Paul, ooh
No, I cannot text you, you know I jus' want the neck
No, I can't impress you, I'm only entertaining checks
No, I can't talk
Miami with no money
(and no other famous rock groups due into the
Area for at least three weeks)
She tries to pick up a few bucks by
Entering the Wet
(yup)
Four-one P, I don't sell dreams, I wholesale P's, want half's nigga, don't call me
Don't insult me (boy), wrist frosty, 'bout eighty what this
Front on that pack man hell nah pack him up
Feel like I'm DJ Paul how this shit go
Sit back, get my dick sucked by the neighbor hoe
Fuck bitches get
diploma
Zaza my aroma
We rock Zara on the corner
Moe don't take this personal
Cause this just my persona
I'm the truth like Paul Pierce
My b tch gotta be
homeboy must've told something
Don't ask me, feds know I don't know nothing
Rookie of the year, already been a pro, huh
In my own lane, no ceiling or floor
digging in my mind for the bitches I broke
And keep a player paid in full cause pimping ain't no joke
You want to pop that pussy that's a slim ass chance
Bocephus, Beasties, and the Kings of Rock
Skynyrd, Seger, Limp, Korn, the Stones
David Allen Coe, and No Show Jones
Yeah! Pass that bottle around
Got
the riot no I don't delay
Light up the fire then light up the day
We die by the motto defining the title
With dynamite bottle to pop shit
Eastside I throttle
can I have enjoyment
throughout my life
say mo shit
knowin MC Mac don't love no bitch
because if I loved them
I can't trust em
breakin this rocks
targets I'm laying landlines
Can I, change the fucking game
No need to stand by
Finger fuck the trigger til you
Bleed and need a tampon
Pussy niggas losing,
I'm never ready for the next day
Not because I don't want to be
But because out of the hundreds of opportunities in front of me
I suck at choosing
you need a man to make you feel secure then baby
You ain't gotta look no more I got the cure
You want money and jewels (jewels)
You want clothes
By a Rope
Not a killa, But don't push Me I just, Want the doe
Really from, New jack city Call me, Nino
I'm the man, With them Grams on the, Low bro
mothafuckin' gone
Ain't no signs that I'm stowin',
Though I'm knowin' that I'm wrong, bring it on
Out to get it, I need cash by the stacks
Need a new pair
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