Lyrics Walk Like A "G" - Fiend, Soulja Slim

Walk Like A "G"

Talk like a «g», walk like a «g»
I got em lovin my drug dealer strut
Somethin about the way I make moves, some think it the shoes And just
Uh, mu’fuckas like to blame it on TRU
When I do, what I do, and talk that slang
Makin the hardest street niggas askin me can they hang
Ain’t no thang, but you must wear khakis or?
G-bose?
Neck touchin some gold, and fully don’t love hoes
Blowin smoke out ya nose, keep a box of optimos
Hustlin so you can come up on the pearl, proper rose
Up in clubs, rock in clothes, big ballas have never seen
Keep their mind wanderin and steady servin fiends
In my jeans a 9 gat, jack, because of my rep
My other pocket full of money, givin me this funny step
I walk, high talk, Gs up and soldiers down
I used to bob and weave when I was on that doodoo brown
Face down on the ground, when Slim come around
Or I be forced to bring more noise than the Beats By The Pound
I just got out the pen, so I bounce when I walk
And say ya heard me, every time that I talk
4−4 boys I used to balk, but now I got a Glock 40
I feel sorry for any nigga that wanna get naughty
I love fuckin up parties, watchin bitches like Charlie
Ask Magnolia Shorty, that’s my people, she could call it
My mama told me I still walk the same way
Talk the same way, every since I was yay
I ain’t got to show it for nobody, you can see that I ball
3 months, fuck the walker, I was struttin 'fore I crawl
Before the old school even had the, «Yes, yes, ya’ll!»
I was spendin my uneven money on my family in the mall
Young Fiend, was the guard, I breaks rules with it
My?
got grooves with it, cause I packs tools with it
I simply acts a fool with it, roll, represent-a
Wear minks in the winter, Tank iced in the center
My step is the agenda, not only this voice
But they its bout my hips, naw they ain’t havin my choice
Now the moral to the story is that I’m cold with it
Made a song about my stroll with it
If you was with it, can ya dig it?