| It’s gravy nigga. |
| Believe it
|
| You hot? |
| Fuck it. |
| Hot as a firecracker
|
| (It's gravy too.) I got a mac in this bag
|
| (click clock) What you got? |
| Glock. |
| (Look)
|
| Nigga I’ma tell ya straight off the bat
|
| I got a mac in this bag with 20 grams of crack
|
| And I’ma sit in the back seat of yo' 'Lac
|
| Just in case I gotta snap, a firette to the chest
|
| If I don’t know shit, I know cars and broads
|
| I done ordered plenty hits and watched heads come off
|
| And I done saw my nigga get life behind them bars
|
| To them dog hoes, nigga, we scream «fuck 'em all!»
|
| I hustle hard in these city streets
|
| I got my block on fire with my HB’s
|
| Spinnin' Benz in these drop tops double r
|
| Cook a brick, flip 'em up, now I got 'em hard
|
| And you can find me
|
| Right up in them hallways, holdin' and totin'
|
| Got the whole motherfuckin block loaded and smokin'
|
| Nigga know one thang: its some uptown shit
|
| If a nigga get it fucked, then we killin' a bitch
|
| Nigga I’ma tell ya this, straight off the bat
|
| I got a mac in this bag, with 20 grams of crack
|
| Well let’s go nigga, see we can slide nigga
|
| 'Cause if you hot, then I’m hot, let’s ride nigga
|
| Look, I’ma tell you this, straight off the top
|
| I got a blunt, and a Glock, and a bag of rocks
|
| Let’s go nigga, let’s slide nigga
|
| If you hot, then I’m hot, let’s ride nigga
|
| Better pay attention now so you don’t forget later
|
| I run the damn block, I oversee all of the paper
|
| Don’t make me take ya, play ya
|
| I cock the Glock and spray ya
|
| Call it a caper, won’t be no as-salamu alaykum
|
| And J, he got the gauges, they cocked and ready
|
| Make me run up in ya places and pop ya daddy
|
| Got them bricks rocked and heavy, let it be known
|
| I cook it hard and cut 'em in zones and the money be gone
|
| Then I hit a blunt to the dome, and ride when night falls
|
| Supply the white raw, if there’s a problem, knock ya wife off
|
| Lock the spot down
|
| Respect it young nigga, I’m creepin' over
|
| Now cut it with just a little bakin' soda, breakin' boulders
|
| I take it out my holster and bakin' soldiers whenever
|
| Nigga it’s whatever, tell ya ma to call the reverend
|
| You see me on the block with crack, gats, and weed
|
| Rats, plats, and ki’s, that’s practically me
|
| Nigga I’ma tell ya this, straight off the bat
|
| I got a mac in this bag, with 20 grams of crack
|
| Well let’s go nigga, see we can slide nigga
|
| 'Cause if you hot, then I’m hot, let’s ride nigga
|
| Look, I’ma tell you this, straight off the top
|
| I got a blunt, and a Glock, and a bag of rocks
|
| Let’s go nigga, let’s slide nigga
|
| If you hot, then I’m hot, let’s ride nigga
|
| See I’m a hustler, cut-throat, put rhymes in mom’s muffler
|
| You can’t even count how many times the 9's bust at ya
|
| Some of the, niggas that you run with are, suckas bruh
|
| None of ya, won’t leave, without some bullets up in ya
|
| Niggas can’t hold me down, wodie wild
|
| 'Cause all that they can hear is loud screamin' and explosive sounds
|
| They show me how to cook that brown and rock that white
|
| No school, put that book back down, pick up that knife
|
| See that’s the real reason I hate to be on tour
|
| I’d rather be back on the block with a bird of that pure
|
| Niggas got it all wrong, thinkin' I’m all song
|
| But yall gon' twist it and end up all gone
|
| Dog-gone cocksuckers, you not thuggers
|
| I pop dozens of Glocks, cousins, in my struggle
|
| So stop frontin', it ain’t gon' get ya everywhere
|
| I’ma start bustin', and bullets hit ya everywhere
|
| Nigga I’ma tell ya this, straight off the bat
|
| I got a mac in this bag, with 20 grams of crack
|
| Well let’s go nigga, see we can slide nigga
|
| 'Cause if you hot, then I’m hot, let’s ride nigga
|
| Look, I’ma tell you this, straight off the top
|
| I got a blunt, and a Glock, and a bag of rocks
|
| Let’s go nigga, let’s slide nigga
|
| If you hot, then I’m hot, let’s ride nigga |