First Verse:
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Stop it right there, I dare you to cross that line
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Do it I'ma feel you ain't respectin' my mind
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I gets loose, backed up, with long toys
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It's no truce fuckin' with these hot boys
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Do whatever it takes to wipe your clique off the Earth,
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Both cliques can't live, somebody gotta see dirt,
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What makes you think I'ma let'cha ride first?
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Try to hide out, that makes shit worse
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Believe I'm comin', a hundred in the drum and,
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I don't spanked somethin',
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Got the set wonderin',
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Bitch niggas runnin',
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Cable is comin',
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That's what'cha get THINK I ain't bout nothin',
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You done been showed, brains blowed,
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You should have knowed, New Orleans carry no hoes
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Say what's up to Satan, B.G. ain't bout no fakin',
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I handle mine with no debatin' stop underestimatin'
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Chorus:
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You think I ain't gone split a wig? Think again,
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You guessin' and underestimatin' "U" all "N"
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You think I ain't gone split a wig? "U" all "N"
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You guessin' and understimatin', think again
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You think I ain't gone split a wig? Think again,
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You guessin' and underestimatin' "U" all "N"
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You think I ain't gone split a wig? "U" all "N"
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You guessin' and understimatin', think again
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Second Verse:
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I'ma silent nigga, you know mobsters eat lobsters,
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I'ma rider nigga, riders tote choppers,
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I'ma gangsta nigga, gangstas wet shirts,
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I'ma thinker nigga, thinkers ride first,
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I'ma youngster nigga, youngsters takin' over,
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I'ma soldier, trip get it knocked off your shoulder,
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I'ma roller nigga, you can't predict me,
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Thinkin' I'm fake, you can't know me,
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I come hard with 'tillery four deep,
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Remember I tear down both sides of the street,
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Nigga I be, the Ca$h Money B.G.,
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Ain't no sleep if you beef with me,
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I'll let you know I'm comin' nigga I ain't gotta creep,
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I'll be in all black with reeboks on my feet,
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Say what's up to Satan, B.G. ain't bout no fakin',
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I handle mine with no debatin', stop underestimatin'
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Chorus
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Third Verse:
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Don't think I'm lame, don't judge me off your thoughts mane,
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Come at me sideways I hook up with Juv, Turk, and Wayne,
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You can't explain, you wanna be hard don't whine,
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I click-clats it back and let you tell it to my nine,
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Sendin' messages, say I'ma bitch you'll leave me wet
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I can't believe you believe I take death threats,
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You're wrong Wootay, you're absolutely wrong
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Now it's on Wootay, your seventeen damagin' health,
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That's another spankin' completed under my belt,
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Your Mom in black on the floor her seein' that her son done been left,
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Brains cooked like a chef, too late for Doctors to help,
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It's All On U, you brought that issue on yourself,
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Think you could know me, got kicked off the shelf,
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I hustle with muscle just to increase my wealth,
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Nigga say what's up to Satan, B.G. ain't bout no fakin',
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I handle mine with no debatin', stop underestimatin'
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Chorus
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Think....fore you get checkmated
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'U' All 'N'
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| B.G. |
