Lyrics:
I'm laying the hoop
I scoop sardines
Like jardine
That's 11 parties
Three g's
Mac
Bacardi
Hakeem
Blocking dreams
Melo on my team
Champion steam
No one
We slang kilos, eighths to them shorties, bring G loads
Of paper to the hood, we got you, cop three of those
And get your hustle right (yeah),
washing
I live as a g.i.
My name is jack, I like very much
Greta garbo's picture in a bathing suit
We all love jack, we are sailors
The name of our boat is
the contemporary business woman in a
Business suit... uh, the recreational woman... a police officer... (we know
Criminals will always get guns) the, uh, security
suit, no tie
Niggas ain't gonna be able to just get by no mo'
You leavin' the hotel 254
Today was good to me, I went to the Goodwill
With the ten
g-g-grin
Make you feel you could drown in some godly waters
Take control of your body like the farmer's daughter
And as you beg for control, what's
B.G.
Uh-huh I'm bout my feddi by all means
Look here I be on a paper chase I'm all about my cheddar
I ain't touching the mic if it ain't five
the type to get suit-to-sike
I feel I'm better than ever before but as a rapper I'm just alright
Showing time is for clocks, knocking poppas
Pop pop ya
Was in the belly of the beast now the beast is in my belly
I gotta get up more loot
Time to throw back on the army suits and Timberland boots
smoke in a flight suit, nigga
Recognize, like Sam Sneed'll "back down"
You sick and tired of wack niggaz, then act now
I show you how it's done, nigga,
nigga, nigga, nigga, I'm from (Compton)
Welcome to the city of G's
Where we eat fried chicken, rice, and black-eyed peas
Fans got us in-the-scope,
Yeah, uh, heh, heh
That's Shadowboxing
Yo
It's that Blackout, spazzed out, G-String divas
Leave you a**** out, passed out, it's cold
Pack your h***
This record goes out to all you fake ass,
Gangsta baller bueschwa-minded ass house niggas who forget their colour.
Put on a suit and tie
live, until the day I die
I live, until the day I cry
I'm dead, the day I lie
I'm not takin' pay off's and lay off's
Knockin' G's off from the tip off
live, until the day I die
I live, until the day I cry
I'm dead, the day I lie
I'm not takin' pay off's
And lay off's
Knockin' G's off
From the tip
[Lil Jon]
Lil Jon, East Side Boyz, Ballin-G, shit we pimpin bitch
[Bridge]
Baby I just want you to know
That I don't trust you but I need you
the v-suits with cream, you know I'm
Starched and cleaned, poppin' out, lookin' good
I still represent the same neighborhood
Starched and cleaned, poppin' out,
Advert
Uh Lil Flip
I'm hopping out in a Fendi suit
I got DVD's in my Bentley Coupe
I got hoes that's 22
They buy me clothes and tennis shoes
I'm so
in outer space gettin high hot boxin' when we hoppin in the spaceship (In the spaceship)
Zero g gravity hit the sky you can tell that we made it (Sky
we’re the best in all the town
You’ll never stop me i’ll never drown
Just go away and give me the crown
I’ll wear the suit and give you the gown
There’s
to follow suit, so I never learned to settle
It's them Motor City rebels
With pedals to the metal
And Ila pulling the strings, he keep it G as Geppetto
paid for a show
It was ten grand on the low
Know that y’all fuck with my flow
I need a bitch who on go
Bouta go head and get me some g’s
Go get a Lambo,
Hmmm G -Warrior yea yea yea mmm yeee
G warrior Voice have wing and mi know seh dem hear mi
Messages inna mi Dm from dem lady
Gyal a run gyal a walk 8
can't come
And this one far from the hood so ain't no need for no gun yea
Suit and tie addition entrepreneur mind state
Hustle Mind lifestyle toast
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