|
Bun B
Everytime I'm in the kitchen, you in the kitchen
Let me finish this brick, 'fore you put that fish in
Listen, I know we just came from fishin'
But I'm on a mission, you see, there's money that I'm missin'
I got 'em posted, so the move and I'm gonna murder ya'll
You and all the trouble goin' through by servin' ya'll
And only cause my man heard of ya'll
Other than that, shit, ya'll won't get served at all
Tony Yayo
I went from oodles and noodles to lobster and shrimp
I went from bare bubble coats, to brand new minks
And yo my neck upgraded (uh huh), my wrist's upgraded
I stay C of F, I ain't got time for Jacob
I'm still on the strip, tryin' to get my grims off
Nigga tryin' to flip and its a Mexican stand off
I'll put a hole in your grill, with the nine mil
Dressed in all black, lookin' for souls to steal
Chorus: repeat 2X
Little bit of dust, little bit of cocaine
Little bit of dro, little bit of heroine
A little bit of ecstacy
That's why your bitch want to be next to me
We sell a little bit a everything
Pimp C
I put the two mags, up to your do-rag
And rock a by baby
I'm in the blue Jag, with new tags
In case you wanna chase
I never knew that, the impact
Comin' up out a desert eagle'll
Make a nigga wooble and we be screamin' call my people
We got these fiends goin' liters, and they shootin' needles
We could be takin' your connection, cause we got it cheaper
Shit I ain't new to this, I met this air stewardess
Who knows the ins and outs on how to get it in and out, niggas
Lloyd Banks
Ya if I put a dress code all black, non-Howells and a laser
And the party is an ink pen, bottle, or a razor
Your hollerin' for praise ya
Catch me in the hood with a model named Taysha
And the swallow game major
These cowards ain't gangsta
They tellin' you lies, by sellin' you dreams
And they ain't fill ins, they fiends
Plus they rat, and it's too hot to chill in the sun
My pops 39 years old, and still on the run
Chorus
Too $hort
Order what you want, you want dope, you want coke
Order what you want, you want X, you want dro
Shit you got beef, I got a tec and a 4
You feelin' hot and moist, I even get you a ho
If you don't got no whip, I get you a car
If you don't got no skills, I get your some more
My nigga we don't cut it, we serve it raw
Got anythin' you want, play us off a hard
50 Cent
My 22's bling, so niggaz scheme
745 I clean, these lil' shell nigga
Fuck a triple beam, coffee pot to cook coke
Joe to smoke, I was born to loc
Method cut the coke, 50 no joke
I ain't "Scarface", no women, no kids, I don't give a
fuck
Better teach that bitch, and that little nigga to duck
With a P-90 Roger, I put shots all through ya
If you survive you gonna feel what talent, do to ya
Chorus
|
