Lyrics:
Cut wit me and spend some money
This the warm up watch the come up
Swear I been down just to come up never let up
Sick wit it just got a check up
What
2004 shit
You know the name
(Ahhhhhhh) Trina!
This is a world premiere
Trina, talk to 'em
[Chorus]
Pick it up
You don't wanna see me heated y'all
roll it up)
Coughin' and he chokin'
Now he throwin' up and shit
(Finna roll it up, nigga finna roll it up)
One shot kill
That's what niggaz fuckin' wit
cloudy wit me
Go get your gun and get rowdy wit me
It's a Holiday dog, mouth big, you could swallow the four
Don't you ask me what I'm robbing you for,
tell us what you wanna do"
Well I'm about to double up with you and you
Step up out the club wit a dizzy head
I got two chick that got dizzy legs
on, watch your boy in some flip the fitted
You can't do it like me, I'm by myself
I do it so good, I don't need nobody help
What's happenin'? What's
think you can fuck wit' me
This rap shit is like drugs to me
Nigga, need a fix leave it up to me
All Money Is Legal
Roca y'all know how we do
First
on what I be on
On my Diddy shit, I'm going Biggie, homie
Ima give it to you, Ima make you want it
And my dick got the denim on it
Uh, a bad bitch'll sit
Jumped out with heat, niggaz didn't want no parts of it
Pull up in the club, looking like they wanna start something
Fuckin all these niggaz hoes, that
up)
Hey, my nigga, we havin' a wonderful day
And I won't fuck wit' me, why?
'Cause it's the first of the month
And now we smokin', chokin',
Never relate wit em (wit em)
We gon turn up on those ladies when it’s 10:am (am)
B*tches really sucked up after da 10:am (bitches).
I was drenched by
To talk to y'all about celebrity chicks
So Ching-a-ling, why don't you go ahead
And start this thing off for, what up?
From the moment she wake up, so
To talk to y'all about celebrity chicks
So Ching-a-ling, why don't you go ahead
And start this thing off for, what up?
From the moment she wake up, so
Teph or they a gonner (blah, blah)
That's what it sounds like when thugs cry
I see things, see wings, when the slugs fly
Low-life Lo-so, P-wing rug by
and get right wit me
I know you stressin out
You need this feel good right now
I'll twist it up just right
The first hit will have you like
Yeah
Fuckin wit da Winnin' Team Cole Music bitch
Look who Back again
Cole Music bitch look who back Again
Put to da test I'm at my best
Get it by any means
Yeah
What y'all niggas want
Street shit Memph Bleek shit Ja rule shit
You heard nigga
It's all real in the field nigga
Niggas live wit it
mobbing and then
Try to jock it (Woah)
It wanna steal nrg but i covered the Sock it (Huh)
They see how i blew it Be like elon rocket (Woah)
Broke up wit ex
a soldier 'til it come your time
I remember Boosie taught that line and I was ridin' for mine
The same niggas who I was ridin' for tried to set me up (what
it
Hang Hollywood niggas by they Soul Train laminates
What's the difference between me and you? (What?)
About five bank accounts, three ounces
c
We fuckin wit Premo', it-it-it's, it's goin' down, baby"
"My mic is loud and my production is tight"
"We run shit!" "I ain't playin' witchu!"
Okay,
Sharon, tell her I need another house!
I dig ya mother out then put her in a cab
Gas her up then hit the hooker wit them slabs
What you think, naw I ain't
fuckin wit Father Time
Act like it's a crime
When I'm kickin' shit wit my niggas
Should know by now I forever wear the pants
And you wear the breeches
the new queen you’re the former
Waking y’all up like Folgers
Take you to school no folders
Ima go hard
So hard like boulders
Yeah
Whatcha gon’ do wit it
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