Verse One: {Lil' Ya}
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Goin' for it all I want to ball fall
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So give me some chip's, I got's a
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Motherfuckin' nine on my hip,
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I'm pissed, ain't nothin' shakin'
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Shit's slow like before once again
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I'm on the come up bro.
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Called Yella out his house
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Man, we got money to make
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Scooped Tec off Infaret
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Then we make shit shake, act a donkey
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Dressed like junkies, gettin' word on the bird's
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Where they flyin', I'm a kill you if you lyin'
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His cousin gave me the urge to want me take
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What you got, give me yo Yae, give me yo ring's
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And yo Boulevard watch, why you at take that
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Link of yo neck, put it in my bag with the key's
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To yo Jag, I got to get yo gun's out yo fuckin' attic
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Don't try to test my nut's and make me use the automatic
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I rat a tat it, on yo ass daddy make ya duck
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When you see a nigga pluck, Boo-Koo
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Bullets, at yo motherfuckin' dome,
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Bitch, you should have knew you couldn't run from the chrome
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Chorus:
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It's best ya scram cuz I'm a champion
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I'm dumpin' on 'em
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I'm actin' a motherfuckin' donkey on 'em
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I'm gettin' low down and dirty with the dirty thirty
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Ya see I'm in yo neighbored hood and my nose dirty
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{2x}
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Verse Two: {Tec-9}
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We be dumpin' on corner's like
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Nigga what it be like,
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Nigga be hangin' all night to keep they grip tight
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Everybody know I'm a fool on the come up move
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My baby boy need's new shoes
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So what the fuck am I to do
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Show a nigga how I act a ass on the trigger
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Fully automatic M-11 nigga
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So how you figure that I'm the nigga to fuck with
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Graduated from slangin' Yae to this dope shit
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Twenty dollars a bag is what I'm givin'
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AK's, Two Twenty Three's, Momma still livin'
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Momma tellin' me the rent's due
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Big brother doin' five called to tell me
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It's all on u, I became a man before my time
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It's on my mind, I'm now hustlin'
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To pay bill's and still make mine
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Now I'm caught up in that game livin' day for day
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I got reason's to leave and reason's to stay
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To see the finer thing's in life
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Maybe get myself a wife, and settle down
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But all these dope fiend's keep comin' around
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What ya got? could it be they all want to see the
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Nigga with the fiyah out that 1-2-3!
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Call me the capital, white natural
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Bullet lyrical dropper, I run with nigga's
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Who don't give a fuck and carry chopper's
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I got to have it daddy, I'm on the come up
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Label me Black Connection 2-2-6! we blowin' up
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How ya dealin' rock's, keep them snap's in yo pocket
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Cuz I see the PO-PO's, y'all know them hoes
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Tryin' to keep a nigga down
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But I'm a hound, I hate to do it to my own kind
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But ain't love, if you takin' mine
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Lyin' think and behind, say what's up to
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My nine milli settin' of somethin' silly
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Now tell me what ya wanna do cuz
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I'm dumpin' on 'em! Bitch!
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Third Verse: {Yella Boy}
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I'm loaded got my double shot now
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It's time to rock shop
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I'm aimin' for the dome I'm gonna make
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Everybody drop the ground
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I'm a buck 'em down with them double shot's
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I be's after a bitch a nigga de knock's upon the front door
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I'm a play it smooth, then wipe the floor
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The door cracked, I kicked it in and let both shoot's go
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Three nigga's bangin' up all them clown's hit the floor
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I found the Ca§h in a glass trash bag stash
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I count's the coke and out the back
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I made a swift dash
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Hopped in my hoptie headed Uptown
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I ditched the body so it wouldn't let the shell's found
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My criminal thought as I got closer to the bus station
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No question's ask I call my dog
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Let's take a fuckin' vacation
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I got to run and the money fuck the city blue's
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Ya Bitch!
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Chorus {Till the end}
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Low Down & Dirty
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| UNLV |
