theyre found And Lil Scrappy ride with me gone get ate like ham [Chorus: x2] Somebody gon get they ass kick ass kick Somebody gon get they wig split
And kick his ass if he lay a hand on me. Since then I been known. Sometimes I think my own self stupid Cause I stay shootin' at marks, Get twisted up
niggas the wrong numbers and wrong names Bitch why don't you take ya ass home and quit playin games They on that pretty shit (what) that high saditty shit (yea) They
motherfuckers Cause the raps I give They running through your ass like a laxative Huh I could get drastic Like Rupaul swing that dried dick I get aggy when I hit I get
t get it F in streets Style shows like sandals, pumps get handled Dismantled, St. Louis is Tony Soprano No two, heffers with blow poor, ghetto mo' gurr Blow bolo get
all ain't good enough) Get outta my way (Y'all ain't good enough) Y'all niggaz wanna be pimps, can't get no ass? (Y'all ain't good enough) Your trick
My invincible crew will never stop If you're lookin, you can find me risin to the top I'm a classic approach my level and get your ass kicked Floatin
of bein sick and tired of bein sick and tired bein sick and muh'fuckin tired All these pussy-ass niggaz (I see they heart beatin - I see it) (I know
and tired of bein sick and tired of bein sick and tired bein sick and muh'fuckin tired All these pussy-ass niggaz (I see they heart beatin - I see it) (
sick and tired of bein sick and tired of bein sick and tired bein sick and muh'fuckin tired All these pussy-ass niggaz (I see they heart beatin - I see
Street Skeet, got the snorters geeked-up and they keep runnin back to the plate We get it on, get it out the pot Get on the block, and get it gone Raised
clock, then we rock Them not kickin, them not stickin, we be makin hip-hop (So c'mon everybody get down... yeah) Now there's a spot check, get the dead
point people out They come to me to get high Fucking let me breathe bitch, back yo ass up Motherfucker you better realize, you fucking with a nutt They
I preach Don't let 'em get ya, them soldiers get ya, Don't let 'em get ya, don't let 'em get ya, them soldiers get ya, Them thugs split ya [Chorus 1
I cant stand them pretty ass bitches and niggaz they gettin up on my nerves And while they in my face, they actin fake, I'm kickin 'em to the curb So
mad fuck about you sorry ass suckers Tick tock chrome off that fake gold watch Faster bastard don't make me have to plaster Players, get smoked with my
like WHOA! When the 34-Bs fill up the bra they like WHOA! When niggas see the size of my ass they like WHOA! When the chrome rim shine on they neck they
them muthafuckin' off-brand niggas servin' 'Rus like Dinner with this itchy trigga finger Puttin' brains to the side walk to end all talk Bitch Slobs get choked when they slip and get
