(Caretta)
Ooooh, yeeah
Presidential roll deep, and that`s for sho
We got that M.O.B. Style, M.O.B. Style
M.O.B. Style, M.O.B. Sty-e-yle (yeah)
[Big Pokey]
Keep quiet don`t talk, peep the fifth and chill
Bumping bout something you heard, don`t know if it`s real
You don`t like m but when you see me, you showing your grill
Skinning and grinning for what, do you know what it is
I got a face full of tears, cause the game done scarred me
Niggas I lost, right now I ain`t the nigga to cross
The bigger the balls, more of the money bigger the boss
I wear the pants in the house, and I call the shots
Keep my head to the sky, when my well run dry
Treating my spits, some of y`all know what I`m talking about
Some of y`all got it twisted around, think it`s a joke
Cold fix, though we need some throw
Everybody on dope, trying to cope with life
Cause hold with Christ, cause that`s the one that wrote your life
Sometimes I don`t sport my knife, I just wear my cross
And if it`s on, then I`m for my routes
[Hook: Caretta]
All my life, I`ma beat these streets and stack my ends
All about my do` ain`t got no friends
All my life, still blinding hoes with glassy 4`s
Presidential roll deep, and that`s fa sho all my life
[Big Pokey]
Throw your hands in the air, cause it`s hard but it`s fair
Nobody to turn to, nobody don`t really care
No hat with no hair, when it`s cold outside
And you alone outside, a track with no square
I`m trying to get, from A to Z
But my ride be tripping, I don`t think this hoe gon make it to B
I know what these niggas, waiting to see
A nigga slip and fall it ain`t no love, I got a a clip for y`all
This for my niggas on the wall, with a slash in they name
Holding it down, I`m bout to leave a gash in the game
Got a license for my strap, I ain`t stashing the thang
On the block hot or cold, plus the nastiest rain
What this cash game like, don`t earn it and burn it
It`s discipline, dog you gotta stack it and turn it
Burn your odors, punching the clock
Earn your Rover 2K4, the game is over
[Hook]
[Big Pokey]
I`m a M.O.B. nigga, and I love to ride
I-6-3-3-50, let`s touch the sidewalk
I walk it like I talk it, sometime I chill
Sometime I let go inside talk it
Some say, located in the dirt
In the Tre, my K bullets hit niggas in they vertebrae
Let em know, what the Southern bout
It`s them V-Dozens parked, we holding the block
Stuff my crotch, when I got in the Benz
Three quarter mink coat, blocking the wind
Hard Ward hollering, yo I got a twin
Six in the morning, it`s on again
Break back on the six tens, Superbowl
Thinks he did, but I did cruise control
Patience nigga, keep your grind
Move more dope, than a Nino Brown
They think we broke hoe, we gon shine
M-O-B Style, low in the mind
[Hook]
(Caretta)
Presidential baby, M.O.B. Style baby
Yeah yeah
