[Verse 1] Now everybody get your hands UP Now everybody get your hands UP Loso, more better (more better) more cheddar (more cheddar) I do the rolls I am not a more wetter?? Challenge me with the bling these niggas know better The wings are as big as the logo on those sweaters Hoes better, have a fall back attack, come through like a funeral all black on black couple six deuces, all back to back, few flying spurs all back to back need a 04, 05 dunking and them when it come to making O's we like dunking with them naaaah I ain't talking donuts I'm talking white ones like the Nike low cuts You couldn't see me if you stood on your tippy toes But you could smell this cali cush with the zippy closed Damn skippy those seats is peanut butter You never seen us stutter like street fitted itted and
[Chorus:] Yep I'm back stunting, yep I'm back fronting Yep I'm somebody who made something outta nothing Yep I know you see something you wanting It's just something about me you can't go with out me you all Said you can't go without me you all, Said you can't go without me you all
[Verse 2] Now everybody get your hands UP Now everybody get your hands UP more stunting, (more stunting) more fronting (more fronting) How you getting it homie, show something You can ask about him, he go hard With that A.M.E.X. negro card Last time I was seen in a strip club Rain, I hurricane Katrina the strip club May I, say I, made a way? Stay fly 'til the, day I, fade away Hey I pray I stay out of a, haters way Lemme play like A.I., and just get to the point Lemme hear 'em say aah, when he spit to the joint You gonna hear a spray, rrrraaa, when I get to the joint And a blind man could see that them niggas with fab is gone Come like them dudes came for Tony at the Babylon Rapid fire, do you know a rapper flyer? The L-O-S-O, I guess no
[Chorus]
[Verse 3] Now everybody get your hands UP Now everybody get your hands UP more wining (more winin') more dining (more dining) Slow winding gangsters throw signs and I can't help that the chain is so shining That the shit on my wrist is just co-signing They don't search us they know we got the flames But they still let us slide through the door like Cramer I believe in god, but my true religion Is stuffing big faces down in these True Religions We everywhere you ain't never there New coupe shoe shine like patent leather airs Pushing something we ain't got our names on 2 '07's neither one of us is James Bond We in the V.I.P.'s with the big names Fendi aviator shades with the big frames The streets is watching the hood is looking Brooklyn's back n look at how good I'm looking
[Chorus]
Now everybody get your hands UP Now everybody get your hands UP
[Thanks to Jordan (Wildchild7@aol.com) for these lyrics] [Thanks to Jason Alonzo, Maggie for correcting these lyrics]
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