Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Da Man, artist - Big Tymers. Album song Hood Rich, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 31.12.2001
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Cash Money
Song language: English
Da Man |
| All I ever wanted to do was be da man |
| Get out the ghetto and feed my whole fam |
| But the dirty streets in the city won’t let me go (let me go, let me go) |
| All I ever wanted to do was be da man |
| Get out the ghetto and feed my whole fam |
| But quarter ki’s make G’s that’s all i know (all i know, all i know) |
| A hit of crack frock could get ya fucked up |
| A ki of coke could get you rich |
| But too much of this shit can get you stuck up |
| That’s why it’s best to deal wit a nigga that you know and chill wit |
| Case he flip the script, you know where he live at |
| Plus, the game don' came a long way |
| Yeah we don' lost a lot of niggas that was speedin down the wrong way |
| See these days these niggas squeeze triggas quicker than yo boys |
| Cuz they got guns bigger than yours |
| Plus ain’t not more coppin out |
| You either ridin or tellin, if you ride then you ride forever |
| Born the son of a straight killa |
| Raised by a strong woman, I’ll ride for my homies |
| So, can a nigga get a boooonnnd |
| Or do another nigga have to come along and raise my daughter… son |
| Your Honor, answer this question and be honest |
| If you lock me up for the summer will you support my momma? |
| Ay ay, move on over (wooooo) |
| I sit and took over |
| 2 clips, the AK holder |
| Brick taped to my bitch |
| Strapped on her shoulder |
| Raw grams in the trunk of a jag |
| Hard ounces stashed in my cadillac dash |
| It’s drought season daddy, we huntin for riches |
| We fly like birds go divin for fishes |
| A known deep boy, the #1 Stunna |
| Got a hundred brick stash in the back of the Hummer |
| But on my block, a old tymer got shot |
| I didn’t wanna do it but he was holdin my spot |
| I’m shittin on niggas, grandma got grams |
| She gave me a revolver, automatics get jammed |
| I’m *Hood Rich* nigga one feet in the sand |
| I’m one of a few niggas that beat the man |
| See, check it out, the dope game is a mother fucker, young man |
| I bet you yo lil ass ain’t even got a gun man |
| You in the game now you know what you don' done man? |
| «Yeah, bruh but i gotta feed my son man» |
| A cutlass supreme, still a young nigga’s dream |
| A solid lil bitch with a whole lot of cream |
| Well lil one looky here, who you scorin from? |
| Look, this some shit that’ll leave a nigga body numb |
| Take that, the comeback is incredible |
| Get caught, then nigga it’s federal |
| By the way, don’t say no mother fuckin names |
| You listenin to me? |
| Don’t play no mother fuckin games |
| You know the rules of this shit |
| Fuck around and be one dead bitch |
| It’s money and the power |
| Every second every hour |
| From sco' to the flo' |
| Bakin soda to the flour |
| (til fade) |