Lyrics:
of mud sayin'
Big Joe's settin' this dude up but
It got so deathly quiet in that
Place, you could of heard a pin drop
As the waiter's face turned kinda
not a 41
Try again, bitch, I'm not one of them
Glock cocked, I be done shot one of them
They ain't know I had the gun
When they let me in
You know I got
the sun
Either you a sinner or a citizen
Niggas ain't runnin', they gettin' guns
Or a chopper that's little as Big Sean
He on the block with that Barry
I'm a culprit, I don't pray to no one, fuck that cult shit
Run up on me, big guns, you get offed quick
Fuck that off switch
Thanking God that I made
taught us to be weary
By the time I got older it'd wear me out my life was daring
I don't feel right without my pipe I bring it runnin errands
Wanna leave
liver than coke
Now what Clan you know with lines this ill?
Bust shots at Big Ben like we got time to kill
Niggas can't gel or I'm just too high
jaw diamond ring
Bitch don't hate me hate the bank, or snatch the G's that I take
Or hate my shiny wristband, and big ass rims I rotate
See people
jaw diamond ring
Bitch don't hate me hate the bank, or snatch the G's that I take
Or hate my shiny wristband, and big ass rims I rotate
See people
from the donut shop
Sheriff Big Dick Turner he was runnin' the whole show
He said throw your guns down come on out boys let them people go
You boys
bitch
Kyle's momma's a big fat bitch
Kyle's momma's a big fat bitch
She's a three toed stank ass cross-eyed bitch!
You, that's right, Joe C., Kid Rock,
why I go there (yeah, yeah)
Like lettin you know where to buy the new Fat Joe gear (that's right)
Five sixty (five sixty) only the Squad ride with me
You couldn't be a better playa than me
Even if you fucked every day of the week
I know you think you got
It like that but peep
I be fuckin' hoes
Cuz they don't bother me (ha stop)
Nigga I'm always strapped I
Sleepwalk with the hammer
I bump into you wake up then blam ya
Yo Whoo Kid these niggas
was runnin' with (runnin' with)
Treated bad by a bitch 'cause you wasn't rich (let's go, let's go)
Finally got on your shit, you graduated, you got
up
Gettin' scoped by a hoe with a nigga
I know she tryin' to fuck
But her homie wanna play GI joe
Hommie you better check yo hoe before
Yo big ass hit
you got her head big
Three hundred a line for the Wock', I'm sippin' red still
I know how the feds feel, I make it hard to catch me
Cuz sellin' corn
do is set trends
And you do that shit again and again and again
Ugh, ugh
Got those motherfucking custom Roshes
Feel me?
This big beard cover my
Truth first, Terror Squad, shoot first
War with me and you guaranteed to leave the earth
I'm, dressed to kill, my niggas rep for real
Joe Crack's back
But me and Punisher still got what you're lookin' for
I don't wanna be a playa no more
But you know Big Pun and Brock still down by law
Who's down
East New York!! oh god!!
Yeah, got that gangsta gangsta gully gully
Yeah, big business, Joe Crack the don
Terror Squad baby, BX boro, holdin down
you want to point me out, Cartiers and a Dracula grill
These bitches ain't runnin' (runnin') shit but y'all mouth
'Cause the first hater to step,
ass was broke and po'
"Tommy, no, you got it all wrong
Oh, oh, Anthony he's a big boy
He knows what he said what
Did ya say? Funny how? You're right
rhymes
'Cause my thoughts stay runnin' like thugs from one-time
I been through it under the influence, bustin' off I'm runnin' into it
See me say he
You couldn't be a better playa than me
Even if you fucked every day of the week
I know you think you got it like
I be fuckin' hoes every day
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