[Intro]
Hey yo, dogs, for real?
I`m yo` man but you got the address up
Cuz now you got chicks talk` What the fuck
What the fuck, what the fuck
[Mase]
You know somebody swung on me & cut me?
(Come on come on come on)
You know somebody pulled a gun on me or robbed me?
(Come on come on come on)
Is they stoppin` my money? (Hell no)
(Come on come on come on)
Then it ain`t no problem here
(Come on come on come on)
C`mon I ain`t wit that man
(Yeah, what, what)
Just throw my B back on
Yo, yo, yo
You know my mission ain`t complete
`Till I hit the city with a 600 Jeep
Hardest nigga from All Out you wanna meet
Hash in the dash with heat under the seat
Chased Kate 52 states straight
But still ain`t nothin` sweet
I took a year off to let the young nigga`s eat
Everybody wit` me want bucks
Walk around platinum linked up
With money like Brink trucks
Shit get too hot? Puff, put the minks up
Come back in the summertime like fuck it, it`s summertime
All Out tattoo`s over wife beaters
Get mail Branson, never buy reefer
Bentley five seater, it`s all for real
First rapper to close down a mall with a mil`
The clothes, the hoes, the cars that flaunt
Plus the money so I`m on nigga one
Talk to me
1 - [Total]
If you don`t fuck with me
Like I don`t fuck with you
It ain`t much for us to talk about
Cuz you don`t fuck with me (Yo, yo, yo, yo)
And you know I don`t fuck with you
So all I can say (uh uh)
Is stay out my way
[Mase]
Don`t take much to wake up, taped up
Fuck the district, I live in Jacob
Hit a nigga, bitch nigga, kiss and made up
See me without Puff, try to get your weight up, uh
Ain`t nuttin` between you and me
And on the real, nuttin` you could do wit me
I got cash that`ll fund your leave
You`ll pull that hoodie over your head
And put five in your Ceasar
Doubt me now and die a believer
Run and catch bullets like a wide receiver
When the war`s on, put your gloves and your Gore`s on
Teflon hard hat nigga, put it all on
Beef no more that`s what other nigga`s for
I got a fam` that love to go to war
Love to get locked up, love pickin` the odds up
Love not comin` home, love to be boxed up
I`m from a town where kids could pop up
Little punks in garbage bags, body all chopped up
I`ll come and run your block, knowin` you got popped up
Arms are rocked up, Bentley wit` the top up
Uh, you don`t stop, come on
Repeat 1 while:
What, what, what
Yeah yeah yeah what what what
You don`t like me nigga? (What the fuck?)
You wanna fight me nigga? (Huh? huh?)
Stop frontin` nigga (You frontin` nigga)
Uh
[Mase]
Yo, one, two, three, four
Everybody on the floor
You see grams, I`mma see craters
By the time you see land I`mma see acres
Drop another CD just to see paper
And before you see me you`ll see the maker
All I see is more chances, more advances
More houses, no spouses, more beaches
Wild thugs around me and no leechin`
When they gun`s out playa, there`ll be no reachin`
Ballin` in Dirty South wit` no creases
And all I see is more F-in` iced out Jesus pieces
The rock over Sean John fleeces
