Beyotch Whas happenin', whas happenin'? You got to love this yere nigguh My boys, my Hot Boys, Juve and [unverified] 'Bout to lace this game, nigga Do it the way we do it with E 4 0, Charlie Hustle Look, I went from rags to riches, stank hoes to bad bitches Stealin' niggaz cars to TV's in Expeditions Thuggin' is how I play it everyday, all day I keep it all the way real, I can't see it no other way I represent mines, Hot Boys Slip up my whole click rides, get shot, boy That's how it go, we straight, do or die, we checkmate holdin' niggaz Then come where yo' momma, lay down and kick in the do', nigga (Juvenile, Juvenile, Juvenile) Let's get this shit cracklin' My probation officer's gonna know what happened Stay out the way I'm H O T and 'bout that action Hooded up with dem slugs and face-maskin', camouflage fashion I'm all about that luxury, I'm also 'bout (Luxury) Puttin' 50 in yo' head, boy, if you thinkin' 'bout fuckin' me I'ma be here fo' a minute, you gotta respect it (What else?) There's a lot of niggaz out here gettin' killed to accept it Beyotch, E-40 and Hot Boys, E-40 and Hot Boys Freezer burn platinum on my pinkie (Look at me) Squattin' twenty inch Twinkies (Look at me) I'm like that, it's like that, what? I'm like that, it's like that (Look at me) Charlie Hustle on it in the fast lane, drivin' slow With a case of tall cans and some broccoli and a bad-ass hoe Squattin' four times, gold Zenith wides and vogues 'Bout snuffin' down, right next to me is the call from the frogs Sound system on bloo-blam-blam Puffin' on the doobie almost grubbed, dang, it burnt in my lap Smokin' trees with the window up (Windows up) Traffic backed up, middle finger up I don't associate or surround myself with C.I.'s Confidential Informants snitches affidavits stool pigeons Marks simple Simon sucker sap simps, I be kickin' it real tough With the, P.I.'s, hustlers, tycoons Gangsters, killers that might not even look like With trophies up under they shelf, sky ballers, all kind of Benzes Player type individuals, thugged out times a thousand Those nigguh-ish niggaroles lieutenants bosses, gazillionaires New millennium wars high rollers real as hoodlums thugs House parties strip joints gamblin' shacks and hole in the wall clubs Beyotch, E-40 and Hot Boys, E-40 and Hot Boys Man, it's like neighborhood shit with a gangster bitch So get yo' paper straight, nigga and go and buy some shit TV's inside when I ride bitch And I'ma hide these hoes behind Limo tints Fulfill my dreams, I'm a rich, bitch And when I hit yo' hood I'ma blind a bitch Shine, tape sellin' got me buyin' shit Dyin'? Gon' be here past ninety-nine, slick Rewind these hoes back to time slick So nigga slap that bitch, bat that batch Kick her in the ass and tell that hoe Hot Boy in this, bitch So nigga, fuck that bitch, tell her suck yo' dick Now, now, here come the youngest Wayne, you can call me Weezy Flyin' up the interstate in a Lamborghini Police right behind me, I'm drivin' too fast I pull over on the grass, they want my autograph I flipped off ki's, I get my G's I spit my 3's if you twist my cheese I'm duckin' white sheets and I avoid the Feds If you think that you can stop us, boi, go ahead E-40 and Hot Boys, E-40 and Hot Boys, beyotch E-Feezy and the HB's in this motherfucker, man (The Hot Boys) Juvenile, you heard about me (Bosco) The B.G., the number one stun'na Baby, Thirty-Two Gold, ya heard me? The Bay Area and the U P T We connected, nigga, you gotta respect it It's off the heezy, what? Beyotch © EMI LONGITUDE MUSIC INC; MONEY MACK MUSIC; Bu döküman AkorMerkezi.com'da yayınlanmıştır. http://www.akormerkezi.com