Lyrics:
posters, it's apparent I'm a poser
Poster child for abstinence from substances
I came up out the gutter doing blow off genesis
To be this good it takes ages
here, boy? (Could we have some service, waiter?)
What about that pie, boy? (God that's good!)
Thruppence for a meat pie?
Toby!
Coming!
'Scuse
they know and shit
And on that note, I keep it G
Like track four, "Kick in the Door" by Notorious B.I.G.
Don't believe me, look that shit up, I
it's time to time mix up (Yah)
It's the 6th bitch
It's the 6th bitch
It's the 6th bitch
Look at my wrist bitch
(Oh my god it's brown boy)
It's the 6th
ain't trying to get by
Cause I can't just get stuck in the same old mix
Know some niggas who stuck in the same old shit
Still be thinking about all
blazing up good kill
Popping the trunk, and gripping a wood wheel
Smoking on kryptonite, twist it tight
(what's that boy), chronic leaves mixed with
with Philippines
I can tell she got that look like she from overseas
You know that I get that win, I do that shit by any means
She always been so good
trust in my Blick
Why
Glock got the switch but it stay by my side
Scarborough raised up until I die
East side baby shoutout to my guys
Get jiggy
They
tip-toein' up on them clouds
All the cheese and I'm movin' packs
They say I'm havin' the keys
Bick back in that tinted, bitch
It's all on me
She blow it
Nigga, you need to git up, git out and git something
Don't let the days of your life pass by
You need to git up, git out and git something
Don't
Nigga, you need to git up, git out and git something
Don't let the days of your life pass by
You need to git up, git out and git something
Don't
"Dropped outta school early so I could get me some paper
That's a good book, I don't mind you gettin knowledge about the game
You dig? So you won't
know (These days)
I gotta help and get my pops up out that home before he gone
It won't b long until we blow, aye, aye, aye
I got a bitch that's
[Chorus: Lil' Wyte]
Jus' the good 'ole boys - hangin' out geddin' high
Jus' the good 'ole boys - watchin' cops ridin' by
Jus' the good 'ole boys - sittin'
Yeah I'm the motherfucking dope man
Came up off a coke and the blow grams
All these ho niggas do a lotta role playing
But let's get back
up high, hands up high
R.I.P. to Tupac
Get your hands up high, hands up high, hands up high
Nigga roll that good shit
Get your hands up high, hands up
up high, hands up high
R.I.P. to Tupac
Get your hands up high, hands up high, hands up high
Nigga roll that good shit
Get your hands up high, hands up
own killaz
We gon' teach you ol' punk ass niggas to respect us authority figures
Throw one of a kind boy when we be pourin' up in the club
You're
lotta souls
Got alotta thoughts that nobody knows huh
Seen by a whole lotta faux’s
Gotta lay low cause it’s good for the soul uh
Fonem pullin' up with
supper
Tupperware in the cupboard, plasticware up the
Stuck in the past, iPod, what the f- is that?
B-boy to the core, mule, I'm a stubborn ass
Maybe
Call lunch dinner, call dinner supper
Tupperware in the cupboard, plasticware up the ass
Stuck in the past, iPod, what the fuck is that?
B-boy
that just stand by itself
But like I said
I'm sorry I'm mixed
Rise up from dust to dust
God looked down and said that's enough
He snatched King right
don't test nuts your luck's fucked
You feelin' up right for the bone yard
Thuggin' off with the graveyard shift
Then comin' up blow your whole card,
up 'cause you look so good
(Think I look alright huh?)
(I look better on you, what'chu really wanna do?)
All I wanna do
Is show you boy that I
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