Lyrics

We represent it to the fullest Keep it gangsta mang You know them niggas from the dirty Do them gangsta thangs Hoes love it when I pull up in my big ol' truck They smokin good With that crocodile touchin they butt Call it what'chu want I do it with the best Spit it how I live it Fat Boy, he dange-ress Watch what'cha say My squad don't play My hood like Viagra Make you hard all day Don't talk about it, be About it like a G I pop it like a Ruger Semi-automatically Ya girlfriend love it She tell me when I see her She hate'chu like you hate me I rock it like Aaliyah Back and forth, up and down Harder, and deeper She hit me on my cell-phone, e-mail and beeper A regular nigga with makin money on my mind A young street hustla Always on the grind See me when ya see me Never know when I be pullin up Four-door, foreign, or big rims on American truck That's me with the clouds comin out the roof On the street or in the booth, yo Grand Hustle! T.I.P! Let's go! Ohhh! Aye nigga Call it what'chu want I give it to ya real Spit it how I live it pimp It is what it is They can't kick it where I kick it They ain't live how I live Ain't just another run of the mill rapper with a deal Wanna push my buttons? Tryin'a test my limits? Been in shoot-outs But thanks to my vest, I'm livin All these so called villains Who act like women Really make me sick Don't make me stick this Fourty-fo' desert and elope yo slip Un-load this clip Til' the gun go "click! " Niggas wanna try Tip I'm a do him like this Paint a picture, draw a Chopper And erase his clique Send some niggas to ya house That'cha didn't invite Do some thangs to ya wife That'll damage ya life I don't think you can imagine What that's bout to be like Instead of bitchin all the time Ya should be tryin to do right Put a slug in ya mug Make ya piss in ya shorts Have ya mama at the wake Cryin, kissin ya corpse Yeah, I know the ice is shining I'm a glisten, of course And y'all niggas still whining Like some bitches and whores I ain't gon' stop grindin Until I see my pitch and fork No, I'm a be richer than you My pops was richer than yours It's extradition I know y'all niggas wishin me dead But I keep it pimpin instead Get this shit in ya head Call it what'chu want Well, I'm pullin up in a big ol' truck I looked in my rear-view, I saw a big ol' butt (Daaamn!) I'm like "Hey Ms. Parker, when you gon' let me fuck!? " She said "When you put some 23's on ya truck" So I flipped me a brick in a couple of days I hit the mall for throw-backs and couple of Jay's And don't jack! Cause you will catch a couple of strays Cause me, Ball, and T.I. Pack a couple of K's Cause we some gangstas And you a motherfuckin wanksta Get out-of-line and I'm a have to come shank ya Cause I'm "Trill" with' a "Pocket Full of Stones" You know I'm ridin dirty Talkin' on my Sprint phone My paint dubbed two-tone I'm sittin on Lorenz' Cause down in Texas We roll twenty-twen' twens And we, bang Screw (Bang Screw) And sip that purple Nigga, we straight from the streets You too commercial, nigga Call it what'chu want
Writer(s): Deric Micheal Angelettie, Marlon J Goodwin, Premro Vonzellaire Smith, Leon Jr Huff Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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