Lyrics:
of dead homies that I promised would make it out this shit (sorry)
And I don't think God's hands is on me nigga, I'm gonna make it out this shit
No weapon
and put my tax on it
Nigga, I don't do nothin' for free (bitch)
The Double R truck sit in front of the mansion
I cashed out four hunnid Gs (bitch)
You
bumpin' that ATL funk
You can call it what ya want, either way the shit bumps
Yeah, being a gangsta is so neat, yeah
Gangsta beat 4 tha street
All this
just a street nigga and I'ma always be
We was gangbangin', that's how I grew up
Out there sellin' work, that's how I grew up
Youngin' shootin' shit
an attack
This bitch tried escapin' the jack
Grabbed her by the throat, it's murder she wrote
You barely heard a word as she choked
It wasn't nothin' for
six by nines and my Amp is alpine and
I'm Bumping Ginuwine
Nemesis to Genesis, precision mission orthodox
Bigger Kicker speaker box knock a tweeker out
snatched 'em up out my comments
Them regular clips ain't enough (nope), if you tote a Glock, put a drum in it (brrt)
Tryna catch up to me? There's gon' be
wig? (How many?)
How many of them live? How many of 'em made it home back to they kids? (Not plenty)
This shit'll get real, this shit is for real
touchdown, the baddest of bitches is out
Like my hunnids blue (blue)
Bad bitches, yeah, I keep 'em by the two
It's a big difference between me and you
I
me? I say, fuck y'all
Got the same team that I came in with, ducking all that lame shit, ay
Everyone, I know is on go
Drive-bys, while rolling in a 4
[Marsha Ambrosia]
To everybody who knows my story
To all of those who came before me
My time is now I'm goin' do it all over again
Ain't nothin
means another pitch
And it ain't winning if they loaned you shit
Uh yea I knew that I wasn't buggin
Wasn't doin this grindin 4 nothin
I'm here just
Yeah man
Niggas think it's all peaches and cream
Shit's hard right now man, it's real shit
Me and my road dogs man on this one
We stay constantly
draws
You done bought the bitch a phone
Now you screening in all the calls
It's about 4 a.m., she ain't nowhere to be found
Somewhere wit her friend,
over here to be choosin' just one, they say you live by it, you'll die by it and I die by the gun
I don't know nothin' so don't ask me shit (Don't ask me
battles, Glu’? True
I share the narratives
‘Cause I’m fatigued, too- nigga
The difference is I’m wearin’ ‘em!
It’s soldier shit
Fold ya shit, left to leak
Ima road runner
Got another load coming
Lowkey in a 4runner
You wouldn't never know nothin
Stick came with a drum that Kel Tec hold a whole hundred
them jeans like Ginuwine (yeah)
Perfect the craft, I took my time
(Hah) , shit
I got how I worked for that (I worked for it)
And these cats still
I'm back again, reppin' and I got my four ten
Doin' you in when I creeps and spin the bin
Now the heat is on I'm comin' to get'cha
Went through
a fuck (Damn)
I, know she for the streets
It's just how it is (Damn)
How it is you flexin' fake money
Shit is counterfeit (Yeah)
We makin' real moves none
shit into a song
You listen for flaws and strip it and try to pick it apart
So when I am rippin', it's hard to tell whether if it is really because
A pool party in my crib at the Daytona
Hosted by Sonia and Monya, ooh
Mami, walkin' up the beach, so fly, so neat
It's me and Ginuwine, twenty threes
Intro: Method Man
Uhhh, god damn it
There's motherfuckin niggas talkin' man
these motherfuckers is talkin' mad shit
nigga we bout to show these
my name
You know what they say when you leave the the room
Thinkin to myself
It's whatever dude
There ain't Shit to say
Now that business booms
This
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