Lyrics:
we'll toss you off in a lake
If you want work, we'll tell you we got weight
Tax him 22 for a burner, flower or cake
Nigga ride fly, in Benzes on 22's
Unlock with a key lava Tennessee call that vol-cano
Are you OK? No Soulja Boy Tell 'Em
It's my guy Kano uh yeah
Let's kick it on easy play the game
Round
account, I cannot sit in the house
All my niggas tryna eat, I need to figure it out
Just tell me the floor, show me the door
My niggas kickin' 'em down
diamond we ain't ready to flop, yup
Okay, not ready to flop, are we, woah
Ah dude, fucking brush your teeth bro, shut the fuck up
Aye, I'm like Soulja Boy
give a fuck I'm eatin
I be at the top by my self cuz I don't see em
They say at the top it be so lonely
But tell him it's Ok I got some money
And I just
the flesh
I'm the man
I'll attest, im the Mac truck in a black tux
With no hands up
Underneath that
Is that summer hot,
Serve and work the Fiends By
my grindin' man, I got em' hooked
I got em' hooked, somebody tell em'
They love the way I'm shinnin' man, I got em' hooked
They love the way I'm
there a fist and we're in (*punch*)
Blast some roaches up for the burnin'
Queue the techno on the turn deck (it's a banger)
Car chases in a Merc by
like they made up of what's on the outside
I tell 'em to fight, and live life for a greater cause
They grew up on the blocks, lullabied by gunshots
Pray
a bite at Aluna
Take a pic by them wings & flex
Tequilas & Cocktails on deck
I know some girls are out there upset
Them other boys they don't pose no
Chorus
Yo we puttin in this work/ we put 'em in the dirt/ the pastor still preachin/ all up in the church Pallbearers put your fuckin body in
(tell 'em)
I'm sick of y'all fake Timbaland beat bitin', you know what I'm sayin'
I'ma bring it to y'all like this
By all means necessary
You might
[Hi-Tek cuts it up]
"It's like the A to be to the see, it's easy as.."
"1-2-3"
"DJ"
"Hi-Tek why'all" -> Inspectah Deck
"Collaborate, break
the flame that
lightens up the rap game..
but fuckk this whole soulja boy pretty boy pagent deal..
yuu call yurself a pretty boy yur pussy needs some
yeah the b*tch she look golden
Hop in the whip and I drive like that b*tch stolen
Shout out Soulja Boy Tell’Em but I been told them
Beat a n*gga up, just
a hot girl
(What you need boy?)
I need a hot girl
(What you want boy?)
I want a hot girl
I like'em hot, the ones that don't tell me to stop
Eat
a hot girl
(What you need boy?)
I need a hot girl
(What you want boy?)
I want a hot girl
I like'em hot, the ones that don't tell me to stop
Eat
shit!
Yeah! We laugh, this is TBM radio
You're rocking out with your boy
I got some boys on deck and this boy
He go by the name Fred The Godson!
is perfect, hatin' on me ain't worth it
I guarantee you, boy, the Earth my turf, if it hurts
(Tell, 'em why 'cause I) been around the world
writing songs with no hooks
And I’m still crossing instrumentals off of my books
Im pretty high most the time you cant tell by my looks
It’s visine, cause I
panicking
They wearing shit off the mannequin
(Tell ‘em)
Three-piece suit or Jeff Hamilton (Mean)
Laker leather on, whatever storm we damaging
(Ya boy going
murder
Somebody tell 'em it's murder
Murder was the case and they blamed me
Stop lyin' to me, boy, it'd be best you confess
I can smell the BS
Had to double cross all the opps
Omo when you talking better talk cash
Boy you know I been in my bag
Boy you know I put in that work
Remy and Veen
Soulja? oh yeah play boy naw, baby
Put that jacket on
Leave them heels on now take
It off quick, Swavey, baby
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