(feat. Max B, Stack Bundles)
|
|
Yeah, it's ya boy...I'm back Byrd Gang
|
Another rap extravagance classic for you niggaz
|
|
[Chorus: Max B]
|
WE TRYNA GET PAAAID, CAN I GET SOME BUCKS WITH CHUUUUUU?
|
GET BLAAAZED, CAN I HIT FROM STUFF WITH CHUUUUUU?
|
GET BRAAAINS, NIGGA I FUCKS WITH CHUUUUU....
|
CAUSE WE THEM NIGGAZ YOU LOVING!
|
|
WE FUCKS WITH EXPENSIVE HOEEEEEEES....THE BIRD SWANG
|
AS FAR AS EXPENSIVE CLOTHEEEEEES....IT'S BYRD GANG
|
NIGGA WE GETTING THIS DOOOOOOOOOOUGH.....
|
CAUSE WE THEM NIGGAZ YOU LOVING!
|
|
[Stack]
|
If trap is the way out then y'all niggaz stuck there (for' real)
|
Coffee shops the only way you see Starbucks here (for' real)
|
And I'm a different story (ha!), feeling out of line
|
in that deuce so I think I need a whole different story!
|
Can't judge a book by it's cover
|
comes to yay you can't judge a brick by it's color (what!)
|
You only know if it's butter when you put it in the raw
|
and that watch ain't flooded if you still see the border
|
If he doesn't hustle, somebody around him does
|
And if he ain't homie, somebody around him cuz
|
(Cause?) Cause gangster ain't easily portrayed (nah)
|
Death before dishonor niggaz easily betrayed
|
Same niggaz from the sandbox, I bought drops (drops)
|
One year or two times we can watch the ball drop (ball drop)
|
We by-coastal you niggaz ain't playing right (nah)
|
Drive-by and toast you, you niggaz ain't spraying right
|
|
[Chorus]
|
|
[Max B]
|
|
Five seven with thirty five homie pitch a buck
|
Hit the club with the bitches, ma ain't the only one to fuck
|
Cause my BG's so prolific, you sluts can do whatever
|
I'm abusing my name buzzing from Brooklyn to Bermuda
|
Nigga's caught him slipping again, he ain't never shoot us
|
Bigga caught up pimping again and he ain't neva Scooba
|
Thousand dollar bags of Buddha, I drop back on my scooter
|
my Ruger'll do ya like they did Martin Luther Jr
|
A lil bigger rocking some shoes thinking that they cushy
|
Lil niggaz got it confused thinking I'm a pussy
|
Watch how I scream with the team cause the clock is ticking
|
I gotta lean when I squeeze cause the glock be kicking
|
I be blowing on the stank, blowing on the dank
|
my quarter across the border I ordered what it drink
|
Got ya daughter caught up in loops all up in the lane
|
All in the paint, we balling and caught up in the mix.....OWWW
|
|
[Chorus]
|
|
[Jones]
|
We do it to the death, a hundred hoopties I done wrecked (Capo!)
|
I got a bitchy attitude but stay super duper fresh (stay fly!)
|
My shooters do the rest (bang bang), put the product on the curb
|
if I'm not out of town I'm up in Harlem on the curb
|
Or handling B. I, in the office with my feet up
|
Stay running through the city, stay cautious if you see us
|
Been known for going hard, be flossing off the meter (balliiiiin!)
|
We gotta stay fly, Austin to the sneakers
|
I love the purple, stay coughing off the reefer (stay high)
|
Break the speed limit something sporty with a heater (speediiiiin!)
|
You fuckboys, you'll never be like us (not at all)
|
Stunting at the light, in a 07' Spyder
|
Behind the G-wall, I know several lifers (Eastside!)
|
Eight forty eights they was heavy in the Vipers (balliiiiin!)
|
Six forty five, cherry and it's piped up
|
The wrist forty five, chain heavy and it's iced up
|
|
[Chorus]
|
|
-----------------
|
JIM JONES
|
| Jim Jones |
