IRC-Galleria

yo these niggas like feds, all over my swag,
and if you never had a father, why you missing your dad
these niggas bitches, pussies they tryina act bad
see times is money so I hallo my nigga fab
tell him, bring that cash in them plastic bags
and bring gat now, shit we about to blast em fags
I coming thru with the ten grams, all collar is match
and with my nigga dress roca, all collar is smash
I see them haters tryina pass, thou jokes and laugh
I look back, niggas start run like tracks
I keep my gat just incase niggas spoke or rated
Im on the track, tryina flip that coke to crack
I keep my pocket lace fat like haitian jack
I never left street, came back like where mase been at
and any bitch that I fuck thou, lace me fat
cops trace me, place me where my face be at
and I dont give shitt, fuck what the case is at
I knew the consecusion nigga before tapes and jacks
before the hustle, before they even raize them bads
Im in this money mission, ambizion like Karim and Mac
and well G, shot out to Oak and LB, you smell me?
nigga its H to O.G, this liltle nigga name bob he died in the O.D
you show me, nigga dont tryina Homey, you Know me
better than broads and police, from O.V, I shoot like Dwayne and Kobie
you phoney, you shoot Em and obie, and only thing you ever shot nigga
it was chanpage and forty, and I talk about gat tho, I talk about forties
em one that you drink on, sippin shorty, dont worry,
you dont wanna die for glory, no horry, nigga lemme finish the story
I gotta couple rubber and ass and i felling a horny, good morning