[Talking]
|
Ay I know alot of y'all niggaz wonderin', haha
|
is this nigga doin good? (yup)
|
is this nigga really ridin spinners? (yup), hah
|
I tell them niggaz man - can't you tell a nigga doin good man
|
can't you tell, Lil' Flip is in the building
|
we got Dj Squeeky on the track...Gudda, Gudda - Clover G's
|
|
[Chorus 2X - Flip]
|
We throw bows, we blow dro
|
we ride blades and low pro's
|
umm....I heard you doin good
|
nigga can't you tell
|
oh you still in the hood, cause you ain't doin too well
|
|
[Verse 1 - Flip]
|
Now when I pull up in my drop, one switch make it rock
|
one switch make it hop, the other switch make it stop
|
I got wood grain on my dash, paper out the ass
|
I don't ride around with wallets I carry paper bags
|
ride around with tech's, endo, with a vest
|
Giovanni's on my Hummer, and spinners on my Lex
|
I rep Houston, Tex where niggaz bang Screw
|
we ride candy paint nigga what about yo' crew
|
got a piece and a chain, a watch and a ring
|
ten thousand square foot home, plus a spot for my plane
|
I spitt game to hoes to get 'em out they clothes
|
cause that's how it go when all ya jewelry froze
|
I been pimpin for awhile, I'm a hot boy like Nile
|
my jacket is mink - but my shoes are crocodile
|
I'm thuggin forever, fifty karats in my bezzel
|
but I'm like 'Trillville' cause y'all can't get on "my level"
|
|
[Chorus]
|
|
[Verse 2 - Gudda]
|
Uhhh I'm in the club buckin, fuck it I'm a throw some bows
|
hit the bar and get bent and go and fuck some hoes
|
I'm this bitch actin wild you know how Gudda do it
|
I got my pistol on my hip incase I get into it
|
niggaz drinkin that 'Incredible Hulk'
|
now he drunk and he think he the "Incredible Hulk"
|
uhhh they gon'have to drag him out this bitch
|
then the police gon'come and drag me out this bitch.... (yea, Gudda)
|
|
[Verse 3 - Supa]
|
I'm doin good and it feels great
|
I'm in the hood H2 and it's charcoal gray
|
supa dup'fly, boy I'm supa dup'frisby
|
give a fuck about the name just know he gets busy
|
mouth of the south you know ya know me well
|
hollow shells - swell you like a macaroni shell
|
fuck you haters, the chains is off
|
Clover chains is on...we off the chains lil'boy (yea)
|
|
[Chorus]
|
|
[Verse 4 - MJG]
|
Uh, yea, come on....
|
MJG, pimp tight and Lil' Flip got a hit on the chart
|
but if a girl wanna get on the chart, shit I'll still put a bitch on the block
|
you don't really want that really now tell the truth, slow ya role
|
you got the cars and clothes but you still don't know ya hoes
|
I'm a Hoe - ologist I dissect the bitch and find the problem
|
I got solutions for a problem I'm here to resolve 'em
|
pull up in a 1969 Impala whites over blacks they harder
|
everyday I wake up early tryna make a dollar, I think I wanna pop my collar
|
could it be I'm just a natural born with alittle dose of pimpin
|
oooh nothin but motionless women strap up put alittle life up in 'em
|
I don't pretend I mean exactly what I mean
|
I don't sell those you can go to sleep and have a dream
|
when I roll through the dirty south sittin up on my twenty - fo's
|
breakin me a ciggerillo down...fillin it up with nothin but dro
|
M - J - fuckin G representer of the dirty
|
but I spit it hard enough to make sure that the world heard me
|
|
[Chorus]
|
|
-----------------
|
Can't U Tell
|
| Lil' Flip |
