[Chorus: in faux patois] Run up run up we got de gun up Haters that think we funnin dey get done up Run up run up we got de gun up Haters that think
[Chorus: x2] Girl I Love U (Okay) N I Need U (Aright) I Gotta Have Ya Cause U My Baby Boo(Whateva) (Now Now Now) Now Sometimes U Make Me Mad N
(feat. Lil Scrappy) Lil J on the track You already know It's ya boy lil' scrappy I like it when she Rock her hips then wave and sip She rock her hips
eyes, I should've been a crook All white bikini, to match my lambourgini Rub me the right way, I might be a genie That other chick sick, 'cause she still
they get smacked, turn the other cheek I don't get it, so many questions went through my mind I get sweated, They act as if asking questions is a crime
dog it was cool cause I love you Fuck what they talkin bout Let me take you back in time, rewind to eighty-nine Introduced me to this life of crime,
Crescent City Jesus I pack a tre-deuce, got a army bout the size of Babe Ruth We hit em Rugged even if it's unplugged for thug lifers We be the niggas leavin' slugs in ya crime
[D-Shot] Mack D-Shot, brought up by the middle class I did time for crime cuz I was living ass I spent two on the lockdown in Preston To hire me is
Now lemme take y'all niggas back to my basics of this Your anxious to flip fag, catch a facelift My shank do remarkable things for fakeness My whole mob
y'all niggaz, back to my basics of this You're anxious to flip, fag, catch a face lift My shank do remarkable things for fakeness My whole mob got the
sentence / but committed no crime I've done my sentence / but committed no crime I've done my sentence / but committed no crime, crime, crime And we
was then, this is now And this is how I must be A loose cannon, with a cannon Nobody can trust me When half the world is sayin "Fuck Me" The other half
communication Instead of schools pushing competition How about more art and theater instead of sports? People will always do drugs Let's legalize them Crime drops when the mob
was at home though so to prove to each other that they were not homos The exclamation of the phobic fury executioner, a judge and jury The mob mentality
up artistses and marked money (marked money) Uhh, tryin to give us hella summers Tryin to give us hella time, tryin to give us football numbers Tryin to take it to other heights (other
other fellas flip 'caine rock big chains, what ya'll think this a game? Murder incorp. slash open cases with cartels we do things that make the Mob tell
braggin about the jackin man I'm not lyin You gotta catch me on the night, when I be fryin you can ask the Ave. for the Fulton Street mob There's no time
[Cornbread] Maaaannn I keep my blunt true like I do my crime And once I, twist up this bloop, it's gone blow your mind Hold up, I can't choose because
