Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Gotta Be Thug, artist - Fabolous.
Date of issue: 06.12.2009
Song language: English
Gotta Be Thug |
Uh huh, Uh huh |
Fabulous |
Get it right |
Uh, yeah |
Uh, Brooklyn, it won’t stop |
Uh huh |
Get it right |
Uh, yeah |
Uh huh, c’mon |
Fabolous strives for digits, even connives to get it |
Niggas can’t tell me nothing dunn the five is kitted |
From Dead Presidents, any cat alive can get it |
I walk around covered in ice like I survived a blizzard |
Got enough chips to bribe you wit it |
Pay off security at clubs, get my guns and nines admitted |
I’m the type that get tried and acquitted |
If my bombs ain’t wit it, blast you with a 4/5 and spit it |
Y’all niggas run to the police and then describe who did it |
Come home, findin necks homie wives is slitted |
I got niggas on my side committed |
You niggas drive or split it, with your brain inside your fitting |
Fabulous, the only way to I D him, is in a 5 B M |
Puffin sticky green til my eyes get slim |
Operate with more chips than I B M |
Fuck with me you make the news, at 5 P M, motherfucker |
If y’all see me gettin locked, it gotta be drugs |
If y’all see chrome on a truck, it gotta be dubs |
If I’m givin somethin to haters, it gotta be slugs |
If it’s one thing it gotta be, it gotta be thugs |
No info, if I’m leaking, it gotta be blood |
If my earlobes is hanging, it gotta be studs |
If the bitch on her knees, it gotta be love |
If it’s one thing it’s gotta be, it’s gotta be thugs |
Niggas don’t wanna play around, they see how calm I do things |
Swan in a blue Range, armed with two things |
Flex pay my joints, drop bombs like Hussein |
Catchin cataracts, glance at the charm and new chain |
I got coke in every part of Brooknon a true name |
Niggas want it when you wave a firearm, they views change |
End up having to move they mom to Ukraine |
Yeah ADT, alarms and new names |
Who else comin to club, under each arm is two dames |
Buying bottles of Dom, with his loose change |
Niggas *Hate Me Now*, cuz I catch the eyes of dimes |
Flooded the hood, with trays the size of dimes |
Y’all do windows low, rims pokin off the wheels |
I’m in the game, tryin to get broken off a mil |
Shove the gun in your mouth, have you chokin off the steel |
Niggas love to bam, but the bitches open off the grill |
Yo I’m ready to address the haters, and underestimaters |
Hop in the truck, ride up on y’all like escalators |
Hit your chest up, leave y’all hooked to respirators |
Bed ridden, talkin to investigators |
Now these ladies’ll do anything, just to date us |
Cuz we skate around on ice, like Escapaders |
Dressed in gators, In Peace I’m Resting traitors |
When police come for me, peel out west in Vegas |
Riding or dying, niggas know I’m ridin wit iron |
Smoke compartment in the dash that I’m hidin and eyein |
My pockets is fat, y’all accounts is on Slim Fast |
I’m 20, with 20s on the M Class |
Just gimme head, it won’t switch your hairdo out |
We ain’t tryin to hear you out, we tryin to air you out |
Make y’all rush into stores, and clear Clue out |
Bout to put cameras in the truck, take them rearviews out, what nigga |