キー: Eb major•
Verse 1
All you frontin' ass niggaz
Callin' all frontin' ass bitches
Yo, get the Hell on with that
Verse 2
Yo, yo, yo, yo
Eb
E
Why you over there lookin' at me,
These bitches actin' like they never
seen a millionaire
Feel my pockets,
wanna really get your hands in there
Now what it be like?
You confused man,
that shit don't even seem right
Like 'Pac shit is funny to me
All you niggaz livin' bummy wasn't
fuckin' with me
Now nigga get it on,
soon you be dead and gone
Verse 3
pay my bail bitches
Type to let you fuck but
never tell bitches
Down ass hoes that'll grind that dough
Catch me with another chick
Drink cris' with the feds
when they come for me
No cuffs, no guns, they respect a G
Number one with a slug,
Verse 4
fake shit on his wrist
Walk around all night,
(Say what, say what what?)
(Say what, say what what?)
If you see a bitch frontin' in
her best friend's clothes
(Say what, say what what?)
(Say what, say what what?)
Verse 5
Nah mami, if you fuck for
doe then you's a hoe
And no I'm not the one
Think you gettin' somethin' from me
your thoughts are broke
Might get a little wheeze
don't you weave and feel it
Get the Hell on with that,
I'm alright I'm just chillin'
Verse 6
to palm the dough
full of heavy mo'
Coulda made you a thug
from the guy with the mo'
But yo, I ain't never met
a chick that was innocent
skeed on and that was it
See me in the video like,
Verse 7
"Bitch I sucked his dick"
you thought he was fly
Now you see him at the clubs,
(Say what, say what what?)
(Say what, say what what?)
Yo, every time you smoke,
dude puff your 'dro
But when it's time to go cop,
(Say what, say what what?)
(Say what, say what what?)
Verse 8
clown wishin 'em luck
Cause I'm 'bout to make them break a leg
bottles is breakin', craniums crack
Chairs thrown when the heat
is attacked
And you hear the street, sound,
hitters and runners
Killers and gunners,
trouble in West other than South
Cover your chest,
they cover your mouth
Verse 9
birdies in need
around grabbin' my gun
They scatter and run but I'm handlin'
and havin' some fun
They gotta keep, rounds up under the bed,
up under the spread
If it ain't then it ain't,
And folks that get it they gotta get the hell on widdit,
BIATCH
Yo, yo, all these niggaz that claim thug like they're the type
Verse 10
Eb
But when
it's time to go to war they run
(Say what, say what what?)
(Say what, say what what?)
Got this clown runnin' around
like he's my fam
(Say what, say what what?)
(Say what, say what what?)
Verse 11
get the Hell on with that
Yeah, Charlie Rock L D
get the Hell on with that
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