Hey yo  dogs  for real? 

I'm yo' man but you got the address up 

'cause now you got chicks talk' "What the f*ck" 

"What the f*ck"  "what the f*ck" 


You know somebody swung on me & cut me? 

(Come on come on come on) 

You know somebody pulled a gun on me or robbed me? 

(Come on come on come on) 

Is they stoppin' my money? (Hell no) 

(Come on come on come on) 

Then it ain't no problem here 

(Come on come on come on) 

c'mon I ain't wit that man 

(Yeah, what, what) 

Just throw my be	 back on 

Yo, yo, yo 

You know my mission ain't complete 

'Till I hit the city with a 600 Jeep 

Hardest nigga from All Out you want to meet 

Hash in the dash with heat under the seat 

Chased Kate 52 states straight 

But still ain't nothin' sweet 

I took a year off to let the young nigga's eat 

Everybody wit' me want bucks 

Walk around platinum linked up 

With money like Brink trucks 

Shit get too hot? Puff, put the minks up 

Come back in the summertime like f*ck it, it's summertime 

All Out tattoo's over wife beaters 

Get mail Branson, never buy reefer 

Bentley five seater, it's all for real 

First rapper to close down a mall with a mil' 

The clothes, the hoes, the cars that flaunt 

Plus the money so I'm on nigga one 

Talk to me 

1 - [Total] 

If you don't f*ck with me 

Like I don't f*ck with you 

It ain't much for us to talk about 

'cause you don't f*ck with me (Yo, yo, yo, yo) 

And you know I don't f*ck with you 

So all I can say (uh uh) 

Is stay out my way 


Don't take much to wake up, taped up 

F*ck the district, I live in Jacob 

Hit a nigga, bitch nigga, kiss and made up 

See me without Puff, try to get your weight up, uh 

Ain't nuttin' between you and me 

And on the real, nuttin' you could do wit me 

I got cats that'll find you and leave you 

Pull that hoodie over your head 

And put five in your Caesar 

Doubt me now and die a believer 

Run and catch bullets like a wide receiver 

When the war's on, put your gloves and your Gore's on 

Teflon hard hat nigga, put it all on 

Beef no more that's what other nigga's for 

I got a fam' that love to go to war 

Love to get locked up, love pickin' the odds up 

Love not comin' home, love to be boxed up 

I'm from a town where kids could pop up 

Little punks in garbage bags, body all chopped up 

I'll come around your block knowin' you got popped up 

Arms are rocked up, Bentley wit' the top up 

Uh, you don't stop, come on 

[Repeat 1 while: ]

What, what, what 

Yeah yeah yeah what what what 

You don't like me nigga? (What the f*ck?) 

You want to fight me nigga? (Huh? huh?) 

Stop frontin' nigga (You frontin' nigga) 



Yo, one, two, three, four 

Everybody on the floor 

You see grams, I'mma see craters 

By the time you see land I'mma see acres 

Drop another CD just to see paper 

And before you see me you'll see the maker 

All I see is more chances, more advances 

More houses, no spouses, more beaches 

Wild thugs around me and no leechin' 

When they gun's out played, there'll be no reachin' 

Ballin' in Dirty South wit' no creases 

And all I see is more F-in' iced out Jesus pieces 

The rock over Sean John fleeces 

You never love the money like we love it 

Pay the chick sucka, and let her teeth touch it 

All Out 

Bad Boy forever 

The Movement 


[Repeat 1 ]

[Repeat 1]

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *