Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Dealer (feat. Young Buck, Tone Tone) , by - Obie Trice. Release date: 16.07.2015
Song language: English
Dealer (feat. Young Buck, Tone Tone) |
| Me, I ain’t no rapper |
| Nigga, I’m a trapper |
| Eva since nigga was invented |
| Came out that snapper |
| Cocaine pin my stature |
| Bring it back, whip Kane Ackerin |
| Oh Lord, so hard, just like a statchet |
| Mathmatics, nigga, I’m stackin' |
| Whateva you crab, I’m matchin' |
| I’m soap certain bout my curses |
| Shit’s comin' back to a mansion |
| At work call a nigga athen |
| I rap, still give a dabble |
| There’s only curtains went over certain |
| I ain’t dealin' with hustles |
| Bring that bread back to that castle |
| Lay it on the bed, that’s what blacks do |
| Take a picture, me and my figures |
| Basket in my satchel |
| You rap, I’mma come back to put you beneath |
| Nigga no altitude |
| My attitude is absolute |
| Nigga like me comin' after you |
| (Hook) |
| This is for my drug dealers |
| Drug dealin', my real life drug dealers |
| Drug dealin', my Columbian drug dealers |
| Sarcoase to my Haitian drug dealers |
| Hovado loco to all my Mahecco drug dealers |
| Yella, to my Aerobic drug dealers |
| All my killas in the hood who be drug dealers |
| Makin' paper, reach the ceiling, my niggas |
| (2. Young buck) |
| With my granddaddy got guncharches |
| His grandson got gramms though |
| Got grandma get a grand for every gramm that she transporting |
| My kids cause I got ammo |
| And I ain’t talk about ammo |
| I am talking about shelves, hoe |
| These no more, when you sell dope |
| Projects with this pyrex |
| Got nine left with these hombres |
| He’s jumpin' back, I’m bein' honest |
| I got all my young niggas on this |
| I don’t believe in carin no gateway |
| I’m not takin' care of no grown man |
| Gotta jump in and get yo feet wet |
| Test to shoot you’r own hands |
| Dope-boy that got no plan |
| So i do shit you don’t understand |
| I let my partner meet demand |
| They in it deep like quicksand |
| You still handling heorine |
| My uncle in and steppin on it |
| He got out the pimp |
| For lettin hes friend OD and left him on it |
| DOPEBOY. |
| (Hook) |
| This is for my drug dealers |
| Drug dealin', my real life drug dealers |
| Drug dealin', my Columbian drug dealers |
| Sarcoase to my Haitian drug dealers |
| Hovado loco to all my Mahecco drug dealers |
| Yella, to my Aerobic drug dealers |
| All my killas in the hood who be drug dealers |
| Makin' paper, reach the ceiling, my niggas |
| (3. Tone tone) |
| Money to the set |
| No rax that gub like a build |
| My dopes make cocaine like score |
| Count so good i could be a Tone |
| I can take you where the block at |
| I can show you where the love at |
| All this work that we get with-Yeaah! |
| - |
| — where my scrubs at |
| The eastside where the drugs at |
| How we all trough the city with the pounds and the trunk |
| Trying get the work on |
| M’gotta murder ya nigga |
| Bought what u served yall |
| And we ain’t doing no dance |
| Booty make the work twerk |
| Put em niggas to the dime |
| Flip a brick at a time |
| Put a loose at the lam |
| See the whoop in this man |
| Fell of it like (cadillac?) |
| Took a trip now im fine |
| Look, what u know about OT |
| (crunnerbook?) you a hoetail |
| Just to make you a hoesell |
| Real g’s taking no air |
| Wait till you dry when you got no aires |
| Feel niggas |