Текст песни B.G. - 6 Figure, слова песни B.G.

Текст песни B.G. - 6 Figure

B.G. - 6 Figure слова песни

[B.G.]It`s me, the B.G., doin` my thangLettin` `em hang, I represent bangity-bangI gettin` off into shit you can not handleI`m settin` it off in this bitch, thinkin` of scandals`Bout my paper, 5 figures and up with the red beamDealers and thugs on my team with many 14`sHittin` your home up, hittin` at everything movin`Lookin` and losin`, startin` chaos and confusionI`m bruisin` your whole family, dress `em up in dark colorsThen come to your funeral in two HummersThat`s me, Baby Gangsta, spark in the dayCome out the funeral home, you get hit at walkin` awayI`m in to grow, legend with rights, I don`t been enticedTo greab the K and let it spray, put an end to a nigga lifeMy nigga TD gettin` high wit` meOut that 13, straped up he ride or die wit` meI was in the `Nolia, lookin` for that killa guerillaI know my nigga gangsta got it on wild willaUptown consist of drug dealers, and thugsFor the junkies got no loveIt`s like this, play pussy you catch a slugDrug though the mud, once it`s dead it`s doneHand on my gun cause I don`t give a muthafuckI`m a head buh-uh-busta, I never truh-uh-trust a bitchMake sure I gotta silent 4-5, if this nigga snitchGet me in the fix, and I can`t snitch out the mixJust gimme tree lives, double them so I got sixAin`t that some shit, wanna see me assed outta luckBet I ain`t trippin`, cause I don`t give a muthatfuck[Lil` Wayne]I be catchin` a nigga corner, rippin` through a nigga streetHot Boys they ride with me, like a preist, five deepWindows tinted, clips extened, drum lettin`Bustin` lead `n, real `n, Hot Boy$ don`t forget itLeave every porch wet `n, brains all over the step `nDisrespectin` the whole neighborhood block wettin`Step in, the section, uh-of the Hot Boy$Full of the `dro, and ride and chop you whole spot boyBetter watch boy, where you be at cause I`m a hit at, three flatYou want beef, I`ma beef at, make it hot, I`ma crease thatCamoflauge to the `Boks, pop off clips in the glocksMake sure all choppers cocked, start a quake, shake the whole blockTake the tip of the jo, kick down the front doorRun from front to back bustin`, Terius cut his wife throatI`ma play it how it go, hold a black connect sho`We went to school for this, we spend bins like a proGo chill with the Joe, Say wodie let`s get loadedBlow a pound with my round, 50 shot`ll get me totedI`ma wet your bin, hit your house, unlock tenBoy you can`t win I let chopper bullets spin[Turk]Don`t fuck with bitch niggaz, 226 bout the realThem niggaz who paper chase, go in the dark and pack that stealYou ain`t hear about the young thugs, The Hot Boys, that`s who the areRun that shit blow for blow, hoes be bout catchin` that nutNigga don`t think cause we young, we ain`t ridin` or dyin` tooDown with black connection to the finish, we bout killin` niggaz tooSpend your bin quickly, make you suffer, die slowlyYou hit enough, I`m about to down, play the sceneryBig ol` Expedition`s, do some dirt in it tonightFive choppers for who lost, kill a nigga, we just mightBitch niggaz get left flat, like a flat rat in the streetAbunch of young head spliters, like K.C. and B.G.Fuck the police, cause we spray them tooPop the cop or go down, cause we ain`t down with that crewGet caught up in the crossfire, best believe It`s All On U+Ohh, it ain`t my fault+, I done what I had to doGive a fuck about no nigga, that nigga don`t give a fuck about meAny chance he get he gon` take it, try to sweep me off my feetThat`s why I keep my eyes wide, nigga cross that line they gon` dieLeave your families clueless, and questionin` why4-4 bull dogs bark loud, chopper moves crowdsInnocent bystanders watch out, them lil thugs act wild[B.G.]I`m a ride or die-er, smoke nothin` but that fire-yaKeep all my hoes cause I`m a liarNeighborhood uh-hotter that a toaster, ridin` MoMo`s and I`ll roast a deal what`s on my old poster, if I pull it out my holsterYou sopposed`a, respect a nigga like meI`m gettin` closer and closer to the T-O-PI`m H-O-T, bitches say I`m a D-O-GI`m on surveilance all day be the S-P-D`sIn my heart I feel, fuck the policeCause in they hear they feel, fuck it, try to keep a nigga off the streetWho? Not I, nigga, the trillest B.G.Lots`a money, and the best attourney speak for meAnd I speak and represent for the U.P.T.I creep, and get bent with VL StreetI` slang heat, any day, noise I bringFeel I can`t be bat any day, I`m a Hot Boy, I let `em hangFar as they can, cause I`m a thug to the fullestPistol in my hand, trigga I pull it `til there`s no more bulletsI ain`t the one to be repped onWho whole block get stepped onIf they outside, when I`m ride, I`ma ride `til there`s no more gasI`ma ride `til I put you on your muthafuckin` backI`m in all black, behind the skuh-uh-skimaskIt ain`t no way that you could lastI`m comin` like the task force, I blast with full forceI`m sorry if your grandparents on the porchThey All `N[Juvenile]Even if I don`t get no tallerI`ma always be a CMB baller, smokin` blunts in the hallwayI`m skinny yeah, weighin` `bout 155But believe I could tote a chopper, believe bitches could dieNow play with the man, full of that dope with a K in his handDon`t want hear what`cha sayin` just don`t be here when I sprayin`How you gon` do it, we could handle that no secretBoy, I`ll put some change on you head take you off the street quickLook, I got a Mack-90 that won`t quitI got clique foll of some njiggaz bout that funk shitSo what you want, get you dome splitYou home hit, jeopardizedNiggaz spendin` a bin in camoflaugeI`ma top knot shot caller, from the clique CMB BallersFuckin` niggaz daughters, got my shit sittin` on BrawlersI`m mad boy, with this clique I`ma act a ass boyIt`s cash boy, I don`t think you could last boyI`m bout to pull some out the hall type shitSome Steven Seagal type shitSome *cgghh* knife shitDon`t think you niggaz feelin` that 226Behind me the crucifix, chop or get chopped, split or get splitDoogie, Lil Wayne, Lil Turk, Lil Terius, better tell `emThese niggaz are felons, "HOT BOY" be which we yellin`Right know you close to the devil, and your lip gon` get you hurtPicture this, three ways gon` tear up your turf

B.G.

6 Figure

Текст песни B.G. - 6 Figure

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