Key: B minor
Verse 1
What's up?
Yeah, yeah, yeah,
throw your motherfuckin' hands up
Yeah, uh -huh, uh -huh,
party over here where the ladies at
Roll them down, open the doors to your homes,
let me in
Straight up, melee sports baby,
this how we do it
Daily Operation, Skull Family, check it out
The most incredible vision I had
Last time I spoke in rhyme
Got you entwined to break spine,
I'm primetime
A live masterpiece, my tongue speaks
Unique tones to rattle your bones
And nigga, I'm fog on
Never put the top to my jar wrong,
my jar gun
Got you callin' Rhydon Gaga
The street pro,
I gotta play this game for my ego
I'm legal, the windows on my
Gray with the seats blue
Hot shit, hip -hop shit,
when the trunk lifts, sound twists
Verbal announcements, I build splits
Stay back for young blacks,
we need hats and wig caps
Ruck had that, call a seven on the fitted
And I was driving drunk in it,
the car skidded
Fitted Pauly style, no switches,
they gon' get it down tonight
And watch cash flow,
puffin' on the Saros and Castro
Eyes low, stepped on stage,
the song plays, see the dance floor
Packed till I spit on my last score
Therefore, notice when I step in the door
For your pleasure,
that's what I came here for
I throw it down for my niggas who get it
The whole scene is pathetic,
my old head niggas deserve a credit
Who heard me?
We don't care about if
you did your time
Streets don't care about
niggas this small time
Niggas only care about
how to take your shine
So it proves we ain't got
Holler back they fake jacks,
Am
E
get it crumped to respond, react
holla back, they fake jacks,
where the heads be at,
the style's hittin',
but the weight shifted,
politickin' in this business
got my brain twisted
I'ma stay lifted,
handle this and try to focus,
move to the mountains where
all out wranglers in this rap biz
Wizkidz, keep a address in my Wizkred
My talk shit,
fell face first on red carpets
Popped Chris after my show
with smelly armpits
Charmless, burnt with you girl,
and I'm harmless
But niggas wanna send out threats
and scream out sex
For Instinct,
I'm known to bite the shoulder you drink
I'm French, I'm cold,
and I don't give a fuck what your man think
Yo incense to hammer your knee
I'ma chill and play the VIP
with this B .Y .T.
My I .C., all of the club,
the band of gobs
Word
We don't care bout if
you did your time
Streets don't care bout
niggas a small time
Niggas only care bout how
to take your shine
Show and prove,
Holla back, they fake jacks
Am
E
Get it crumped to a small react
Holla back, they fake jacks
Where the heads be at,
E
Am
get it crumped to respond, react, yeah
How did you like the song?
TunerE A D G B E
ChordsAm E G# G#m
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