Lyrics Slangin' Dem Thangs - Profit

Slangin' Dem Thangs

We’re about to set it off, something like this
Uh, uh, uh, uh
Do, do, do, do, there they go, there they go
Do, do, do, do, there they go, there they go
Now that’s the sound over me slanging them things
Do, do, do, do, there they go, there they go
Do, do, do, do
Freeze, put your hands up, get on the curb, now
They’re trying to put a nigga under the courts
Because the cops found a stash in a duffle bag under his porch
I’ve got to keep a four five Colt revolver
Because I get paid like Tyrese from the Coke, I’m palming
Haters want my hot buzz
Switch the code, and I’m bombing
That’s why I push a black H2, roll in armour
You know Profit’s got to hold a llama
Because I stay posted at a crack house with my posters on it
I know I’ve got to stay watching, got to stay clocking
If the Fed’s try to knock me, I’ve got to pay Cochran
You niggers' try to hate on this, I ate Kano quick
And cut your connect the Yayo bricks
We keep more German pistols than Adolf Hit
And if the block is too hot, we just 'aye' off this
This for all my folks hustling, all my people grinding
Holler out the hood whistle right before you hear the siren like
Do, do, do, do, there they go, there they go
Do, do, do, do, there they go, there they go
Now that’s the sound over me slanging them things
Do, do, do, do, there they go, there they go
Do, do, do, do
Wait, back off, scrub
Every time you see Profit, man, he’s bagging up dubs
All my blows come packed with a baggy of bud
I stay grinding, my fiends look happy and what
They want to felony or misdemeanors
But its all love when we hit the court like Serena and Venus
On the block like nobody can stop us
Body the coppers, and bounce to Hawaii in choppers
Stay strapped when I’m pumping the packs
I’m like a golf course, keep a nine in the front and the back
I’m sick of fake Nino bastards, who only step on blocks
When they only stepped on they Lego castles
Seat back in a black Maybach’s
Flipping those without touching those, every night like Pat Sajak
Security stay grinding, can’t get caught sleeping
That’s why you hear the sound of the cops creeping
Do, do, do, do, there they go, there they go
Do, do, do, do, there they go, there they go
Now that’s the sound over me, slanging them things
Do, do, do, do, there they go, there they go
Do, do, do, do
I’m The Rock on the block, I’m laying the smack down
First you smell me cooking and I’m breaking the crack down
You can catch Profit still flipping out packs
In front of the Twins building with a Bentley out back
Y’all rappers living check to check, pockets are empty
Waiting for your next hit like Bobby and Whitney
Who’s that parking in the M3
I know its them people wait for the signal, they holler at me
Blocks stacking the trash, rocks stacking the stash
Hop in the hoop tie, back to the lab
When I’m through packaging the coke
Here’s a fresh white tee, to the hood with a package in my coast
Slanging things like an NBA game, my team ruthless
I push the rocks up so my fiends can shoot them
'Profit, I’m making sure that the streets is juking
God damn, not again, man the D’s is swooping'
Do, do, do, do, there they go, there they go
Do, do, do, do, there they go, there they go
Now that’s the sound over me, slanging them things
Do, do, do, do, there they go, there they go
Do, do, do, do