Lyrics:
every hood's head honcho
I'm Westside certified, go run a fuckin' hood yo
[Chorus]
[T.I.]
I done told y'all I'ma O.G., never had cold feet
You
Dynasty, it be a world premier
Cuttin' through like attorneys at law that's car chasin'
You star gazing, the force y'all facin' is the
R-to the, double-O
too
I got news, if y'all don't have my one point nine by nine o' two
Tell the folks at Channel five, "theses hostages ain't bulletproof"
Like, what it
look, go ask Otis P
I been clutchin' pistols every show, you reach, you go to sleep
So fresh, I got OCD, I ain't got no damn O-P-P
Got somethin'
100 p's he played the lane with me
Most of the time I ain’t even got change really
From the cloth
It’s T.O. Not Jefe I be Jefe my nigga
And Don’t you
I been D-U-C-K-I-N-G ducking from police
I been P-O-P-P-I-N-G popping my shit all damn week
I ran up 20 in my sleep I fuck these bitches by the 3's
I
why'all know why'all strippin'
[Hook: P. Dot (The Reverend William Black)]
Willing to do what it takes for us to make it
And we can overcome anything
I come through your block?
Sheek, Funk Doc, Meth on top
Porsche, 300 horse fly by, back open pumpin How High (How High)
Yeah, can y'all see that
the be-O-N-E see-Town to the D-Town Its a Midwest thang we let em hang to the grees-ound Smokin trees by the P's-ound Blowing big with my niggas, muthafuckas
And a buncha different bottles we can P-O-P
Stay high like Snoop, D-O-double-G
Smoke down on that sour, P and G-D-P's
From the 3-1-3, to the 4-15
I'm going
and faeter by Saskia
On the computer
The musical Looter
Zeb on the mike
I'm the underground booster
(QF Da Funkee P:)
Yeah QF Da Funkee P is in da house,
you
Oh, do I imagine
To be with you in Heaven
The Holy One
O-o-Oh, you are the One
My sins have been undone
By sacrificing your Son
So, we lift up our
gusta mi flow, yo lo sé (pah)
Ando arma'o, yo que tú corro
Tengo par de putas, quieren sex
Y me las chingo con gorro
Les doy bien duro como es
Y se
a serious answer
The mic goes into labor you freeze up
Enveloped by the style that sounds so rough
Rehearsal weak verses potent as cyanide
A million
party)
Picture perfect, I paint a perfect picture
Bomb the hoochies with precision, my intention's to get richer
With the S-N double-O-P, Dogg my
party)
Picture perfect, I paint a perfect picture
Bomb the hoochies with precision, my intention's to get richer
With the S-N double-O-P, Dogg my
seen this tatted on your chick frame
F-A-B-O-L-O-U-S
Ridin' y'all know as well I do
That's the way you can tell I flew
So I got a deal, I sell pies
gang ion play by rules
762 knocked him out his shoe now he can’t even chew
Big B’s but my pockets blue Put that all on you
That’s on ru we was right
to get my feet on the ground
(MJG)
Now let me explain a pimp
a nigga about the m-o-n-e-why
see a hoe, break a hoe
and try to influence the bitch,
What we doing, Flex?
They see us, Funk Flex, Meek Mill, 017
I mean, why not?
Dreamchasers in the building
You know what it is
Philly, New York City,
Jason Martin.
Why? boy P, young G, don't show unless it's C.O.D.
On G.O.D., won't catch me ridin', no men's D.I.C.
On G.O.D., won't cross my bro-bro
ass on fire
That's how you work with barbed wire
Carve my name in your face
Pour gas-o-line on you and drop you at the gas station
Y'all chicks
Who y'all really know out here that's fuckin' with the K-O-D-A
To the P-R-E-U-S-S ooh yes bitch, don't you play with me
Got selective hearin' I
this master
plan
Since y'all 憆eady rowdy I just ask ya man, hey
You want some work, well partna put in ya bid
Now by the was whats ya name they call me
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