Lyrics:
they palate, uh
I'm a dog, I'm a beast, and yo' father figure
That lil' P365 was just Fat starter pistol
She got a Scorpion, too, and it'll sting you
the hood, just shooting the breeze
My partners on the cut smoking swisher sweets
Tripping on the hoochies rolling by in they rides
Guzzling up a forty
Ninja Nicki, where Ninja Man?
I don't need a hundred niggas, lil' bitch, me soon come
Dripped in YSL, one thug and one gun
These bitches gon' bow down
on the beat leave the hood feeling graced
One thing thats fasho ima make sure we straight
I bet by the end I go down as a great
Fuck how you feel boy I mean
worldwide
All my playas in the hood stay fly
And if your ballin let me hear you say right (Right)
Yeah, to the what, yeah, oh, yo, keep your bread up
be rockin' up slab have the money in my hood
Keep it good, protect the money that you make
You bitch niggas can't fade what we put together
No matter
put me in the game, I know all the plays coach
Got me locked up inna cage,
Next up is a Range Rov
Trynna build a Blueprint I feel like 96' Hov
All you
stack me up a Millie then go put it in safe
Come back n go lil harder Cuz I'm on that paper chase
Roll me up a blunt, light it up, then smoke it
I remember the day when we would jugg on computers
My lil' bitch in Bermuda
These haters be startin' up so many rumors
Finessin' a country-ass
the bank (O oh)
Big piggy bank, put it in the bank
(Lil Purpp bless yo trap)
Big piggy bank, put it in the bank, ooh
Hopped in the motherfucking space coupe
don't you bring your ass on over to Crenshaw and Slauson?
Take a walk through the hood, where we up to no good
Slangin' them things like a real O-G
don't you bring your ass on over to Crenshaw and Slauson?
Take a walk through the hood, where we up to no good
Slangin' them things like a real O-G
Yuh, this ain’t no fuckin' remix, this an official track
Too drippy out here bitch, ah ahh
Aye, Yung Z, Tonto, aye it’s lil Massa hoe
Bitch I’m
Lil' Jon, Jennifer Hudson and Norah Jones
Mary J. Blige, with her shades on, I could tell by her stones
On the left, we have Lenny Kravitz, Puffy,
We heard o' ya bitch muhfuckas poppin' shit
We murder ya! Biatch!
Run up in ya crib snack up
Ya kid then murk yo Pa
You don't know what I do to ya! Uh
caught the hint hint
I bet he wonder where his bitch went
I put my hood on like I'm Kenny from south park
Aye u either give up or you heart
I'm having my
They say that 772 Love clear up yo dark clouds
I turn from Rags 2 Riches and I Ice you out
I like having you around, So I gotta put it down
Step into me
lil baby hold up yeah
Baby is you on that type of time
What if this is just a sign?
I'm just tryna pick apart yo mind
Why you can't make up yo mind
but as soon as the, grind get hard
you put yo time in God.
Verse 1
It's in our blood
thuggin
til the days of my death
my last breath taken by the ATF
Ah yeah, Hypnotize Minds, wassup Lil' Wyte, featuring Juvenile
Crash the mothafuckin' club, the remix
And it's goin' down for you hoes like this
(Hitmaka)
Ghetto love
Need somebody I can trust
I'm tired of livin' alone-'one-'one
Need a bad lil' vibe
I can put into rotation
Who correct
money double up
I gotta get it, cause I got a family to feed
If you feel what I'm sayin' put yo' hand on yo' heat
[Chorus]
[Crime]
Do any niggas
at the noco
Bitch throwing ass all on me ain’t this yo Hoe? (This yo bitch)
Bag right, & the fit tight she want a photo
I’ll slide down no drive by
Later on I'm tryin' to climb behind ya spine
Hold up lil mama, Slow ya a** down
Pick it up, Throw ya a** down
Now throw ya a** around
An scream me
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