Lyrics:
with the mid 90's
Yeah mid 90's funk, yeah
Freaknik gotcha your girl doing slit
Doing slit on the dick, yeah
Dope boys in the trap getting rich
Get rich
(damn)
The dope boys, they was my hero (damn)
Your bitch ain't nothin' but a free throw
Do what I want to a nigga, like I got a cheat code (damn)
That
could get some
Yo home boy, its quiker said than dunn
Just a Quik dedication to tha creator of Gangsta Rap music
Mr. Erik, Eazy E, Wright, that's how its
big
Vvs diamonds shinning on my wrist
Tell em bitches I’m the (Dope Man)
Tell em bitches I’m the man
Puffin sour d, my boy studying for the exam
Extra
Time for see-H-A-N-G-E
Held a knife to the VP on TV
She demanded that the format be expanded
Beyond fair, everybody clear, understand it?
[Aesop Rock
hit no licks
You say you a dope boy but you ain't sold no bricks
My baby mama left, I bought another nigga bitch
I do what I want, you do what you
cool
They like to get to know me
Don't make me fix your baby, boy
She fuck me like I'm Jodie
At least that's what she told me
Got a lil dope left with
bitching
No crowd can avoid the D-O to the see
When I'm P-E-are-F-O-are-M-I-N-G
On the stage, see the simple fact is I engulf
And known, I rock a funky
Moving slow for the sences, they co-opps, renegates (Gang)
I am making no friends (No), boy I got bigger plans (That)
Selling dope to the fans (Pew)
left the Glock with the switch
Police gon' press you, we got lawyers, baby, don't tell 'em shit (don't say shit)
And I be rock-rock-rockin' 'til
and shockin' and rockin', go house
Everybody say, rock it, don't stop it (Crowd repeats)
Well hit me, Mr. Biggs (Crowd repeats)
Pow Wow (Crowd repeats)
G-L-O-B-E
this is just dope, dope
Bottles of Belaire, the prince is the freshest
Tree by the elbow we get for the LO
So I should be happy, but this shit is
millionaire
E cold dem like
Nemonia
Legit boy
I chock dem like
Amonia
Now mama is
Proud
Papa is proud
But I can never
Rest till the
Millions Go around
Around
wait on no one
I got dope on the phone line
Just like E-IE-IO e-ie-io, e-ie-io
Got a whole lotta hoes on the phone line
And the bitch like E
Long black hair with the white rag
40 cent Faygo in a brown bag
Jump Steady, Rude Boy, and Nate The Mack
Chillen by my side 'cause my Posse's stacked
I
Hate being stuck in your rush hour, i'm stuck, huh
We don't take breaks boy, no halftime, no breaks i work
Bitch know rock out when i rock out, i
got a ten, holdin my stack of big Benz
Correographer causin your funky dope maneuver (say what?)
Bad Boy represent, keep it sewer
Killin You Softly wit
by me
When read you read E = the D.O. to the C.
Knowledge and the talent that my mother had born to her
Equals an artist that won't' be worn, what is
of that dope nigga,I'ma split ya
Lil' Turk bout gun play and any day nigga whatever
Light or daytime it really don't matter
I'm a Hot Boy fo' sho'
I'm
Do you like a cholo, Southern boy up in the Polo
Lenny's done turned to green rock, fire in the sky
Wish my folks wasn't killed
Wish my partner
there by a doctor with an oath to do no harm
I spelled the devil's name, S-A-C-K-L-E-R, shot straight to the vein
Goddamn, the pusher man
We're all dope
I went to sleep in dope boy Reeboks, then had a dope boy dream
What's the chances you make it out? You might get knocked at eighteen
Either rich
Back from the dead second L.P. here we go
Comin at ya from the R.O.M.E.O.
Pistol packed with a crew'o fly slimmys
Hat turned back in some Airwalk
I, opened up shop at 13
Dimes, dubs, quarter sacks and O-Z's
From hand-held, digital to triple-beam
Now my pa-ger's an e-mail flip screen
Expanded my
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