Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Bout Mine, artist - Trick Daddy. Album song Thug Holiday, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 05.08.2002
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Slip-N-Slide
Song language: English
Bout Mine |
I’m goin' all way out bout mine |
Best dat a bitch get shot bout mine |
Hoes get slapped in the mouth bout mine |
The prices stay the same and they drop bout mine |
(Verse 1, Money Mark) |
You fucks with T Double D then you fucks with we |
Now you runnin' round duckin' me |
Young nigga with a AK better than Ananda Lee |
I send them killers where ya mama be |
I be Money M to the izzay, R to the kizzay |
Come through choppin' ya block I don’t plizzay |
Got dolo for the low, then hit the 2 Way |
Peace to Uncle Lisle I miss him everyday, hey |
Love dough and love to hate hoes |
Love to pull nigga bout mine lil' nose |
Nigga tryna hold me back, I’m throwin' 'bows |
I’m a treal ass nigga, that’s how shit goes |
(Rick Ross) |
You can never fuck with me, I’ll just flow harder |
CL 6 sittin' low on those (?) |
I’m a Philly man, but I don’t blow garbage |
Got sweet dick, most of these hoes got it |
Ain’t no love, you see how the Feds do us |
Wanna eat like rust and some for tear Lucas |
Haul that blunt to a nigga share mucas |
Body on 'em so what, look up we had shooters |
(?) Take all tinted route |
Hand guns, razor blades comin' out of the mouth |
Borderline rapper, come see me but twin 49 rapper |
It’s more to mine rapper |
Saw that rhyme after, yeah, got the right gat |
Eat with the 2 Way they scared to write back |
Lay niggas down like this? |
No like 'dat |
No whoever ran, make 'em come back like crack |
(Duece Poppi) |
You better worry bout you, don’t worry bout me |
I pop three, out the drop-e |
I smoke brocoli, you know we got D |
Duece Poppi and T Double D |
We got them AK shells and they hot as hell |
Crackin' back to the white meat like lobster tails |
Poppin shells, quick to crack your breastbone |
Tore his head off 'cause he had his vest on |
12 gauge, shoot ten times for haters |
Niggas curlin' up like activators |
Fake ass thugs, stop with them lies |
You ain’t rapped like that when 2Pac was alive |
(Hook x2) |
(Verse 2, Mystic) |
I’m not gonna fuck with you nigga, 'cause I don’t know you my nigga |
So don’t you fuck with me or my dogs |
Nigga I’m for real about mine, and my dogs ready to kill bout mine |
I chill, smoke crip and send orders |
Off all those po-po's and armed forces, fuck 'em |
They don’t wanna see me fly, I don’t trust 'em |
They probably wanna see me die, that why |
Hold the fire, and keep it closed and keep an open eye |
For them haters and hoes, 'cause I don’t play about mine |
Goin' deep, pray about mine |
Know baby had to spray about mine, AK about mine |
Fuck that you’ve been warned too many times |
How you feel bout yours, nigga I’m ten times worse |
You gettin' revenge but nigga mine will get you cursed |
So please don’t fuck around with me |
'Cause my dogs will bust around at he |
Whoever obsessed, me boy, don’t test me boy |
Touch me, my dog’ll wetcha boy |
(Trick Daddy) |
Most niggas get rich, get goats |
I went out and got guns, united my folks (my folks) |
Pour it out for the ones we lost, now bitch |
Throw it up 'fore I blow it up |
You ain’t know I was a G muthafucka |
You don’t really wanna see me muthafucka |
I’m a thug nigga, fo' life |
Bitch I’ll kill ya, fo' night |
I’m goin' all way out bout mine |
Best in a biscuit shot bout mine |
Hoes get slapped in the mouth bout mine |
Prices stay the same and they drop bout mine |
Runnin' in your grandmami house bout mine |
I ain’t slippin', I got my nine |
Plus Duece got his, you better think twice bitch 'cause you got kids |
Plus, I know what you did, add that to the fact I know where you live |
Thug life and you know how it is |
Shit don’t stop till a nigga get killed (killed, killed, killed, get killed) |
(Hook x2) |