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B.G. F/ Hot Boys Miscellaneous 6 Figure [B.G.] It's me, the B.G., doin' my thang Lettin' 'em hang, I represent bangity-bang I gettin' off into shit you can not handle I'm settin' it off in this bitch, thinkin' of scandals 'Bout my paper, 5 figures and up with the red beam Dealers and thugs on my team with many 14's Hittin' your home up, hittin' at everything movin' Lookin' and losin', startin' chaos and confusion I'm bruisin' your whole family, dress 'em up in dark colors Then come to your funeral in two Hummers That's me, Baby Gangsta, spark in the day Come out the funeral home, you get hit at walkin' away I'm in to grow, legend with rights, I don't been enticed To greab the K and let it spray, put an end to a nigga life My nigga TD gettin' high wit' me Out that 13, straped up he ride or die wit' me I was in the 'Nolia, lookin' for that killa guerilla I know my nigga gangsta got it on wild willa Uptown consist of drug dealers, and thugs For the junkies got no love It's like this, play pussy you catch a slug Drug though the mud, once it's dead it's done Hand on my gun cause I don't give a muthafuck I'm a head buh-uh-busta, I never truh-uh-trust a bitch Make sure I gotta silent 4-5, if this nigga snitch Get me in the fix, and I can't snitch out the mix Just gimme tree lives, double them so I got six Ain't that some shit, wanna see me assed outta luck Bet I ain't trippin', cause I don't give a muthatfuck [Lil' Wayne] I be catchin' a nigga corner, rippin' through a nigga street Hot Boys they ride with me, like a preist, five deep Windows tinted, clips extened, drum lettin' Bustin' lead 'n, real 'n, Hot Boy$ don't forget it Leave every porch wet 'n, brains all over the step 'n Disrespectin' 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 boy Better watch boy, where you be at cause I'm a hit at, three flat You want beef, I'ma beef at, make it hot, I'ma crease that Camoflauge to the 'Boks, pop off clips in the glocks Make sure all choppers cocked, start a quake, shake the whole block Take the tip of the jo, kick down the front door Run from front to back bustin', Terius cut his wife throat I'ma play it how it go, hold a black connect sho' We went to school for this, we spend bins like a pro Go chill with the Joe, Say wodie let's get loaded Blow a pound with my round, 50 shot'll get me toted I'ma wet your bin, hit your house, unlock ten Boy you can't win I let chopper bullets spin [Turk] Don't fuck with bitch niggaz, 226 bout the real Them niggaz who paper chase, go in the dark and pack that steal You ain't hear about the young thugs, The Hot Boys, that's who the are Run that shit blow for blow, hoes be bout catchin' that nut Nigga don't think cause we young, we ain't ridin' or dyin' too Down with black connection to the finish, we bout killin' niggaz too Spend your bin quickly, make you suffer, die slowly You hit enough, I'm about to down, play the scenery Big ol' Expedition's, do some dirt in it tonight Five choppers for who lost, kill a nigga, we just might Bitch niggaz get left flat, like a flat rat in the street Abunch of young head spliters, like K.C. and B.G. Fuck the police, cause we spray them too Pop the cop or go down, cause we ain't down with that crew Get caught up in the crossfire, best believe It's All On U +Ohh, it ain't my fault+, I done what I had to do Give a fuck about no nigga, that nigga don't give a fuck about me Any chance he get he gon' take it, try to sweep me off my feet That's why I keep my eyes wide, nigga cross that line they gon' die Leave your families clueless, and questionin' why 4-4 bull dogs bark loud, chopper moves crowds Innocent bystanders watch out, them lil thugs act wild [B.G.] I'm a ride or die-er, smoke nothin' but that fire-ya Keep all my hoes cause I'm a liar Neighborhood 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 holster You sopposed'a, respect a nigga like me I'm gettin' closer and closer to the T-O-P I'm H-O-T, bitches say I'm a D-O-G I'm on surveilance all day be the S-P-D's In my heart I feel, fuck the police Cause in they hear they feel, fuck it, try to keep a nigga off the street Who? Not I, nigga, the trillest B.G. Lots'a money, and the best attourney speak for me And I speak and represent for the U.P.T. I creep, and get bent with VL Street I' slang heat, any day, noise I bring Feel I can't be bat any day, I'm a Hot Boy, I let 'em hang Far as they can, cause I'm a thug to the fullest Pistol in my hand, trigga I pull it 'til there's no more bullets I ain't the one to be repped on Who whole block get stepped on If they outside, when I'm ride, I'ma ride 'til there's no more gas I'ma ride 'til I put you on your muthafuckin' back I'm in all black, behind the skuh-uh-skimask It ain't no way that you could last I'm comin' like the task force, I blast with full force I'm sorry if your grandparents on the porch They All 'N [Juvenile] Even if I don't get no taller I'ma always be a CMB baller, smokin' blunts in the hallway I'm skinny yeah, weighin' 'bout 155 But believe I could tote a chopper, believe bitches could die Now play with the man, full of that dope with a K in his hand Don't want hear what'cha sayin' just don't be here when I sprayin' How you gon' do it, we could handle that no secret Boy, I'll put some change on you head take you off the street quick Look, I got a Mack-90 that won't quit I got clique foll of some njiggaz bout that funk shit So what you want, get you dome split You home hit, jeopardized Niggaz spendin' a bin in camoflauge I'ma top knot shot caller, from the clique CMB Ballers Fuckin' niggaz daughters, got my shit sittin' on Brawlers I'm mad boy, with this clique I'ma act a ass boy It's cash boy, I don't think you could last boy I'm bout to pull some out the hall type shit Some Steven Seagal type shit Some *cgghh* knife shit Don't think you niggaz feelin' that 226 Behind me the crucifix, chop or get chopped, split or get split Doogie, Lil Wayne, Lil Turk, Lil Terius, better tell 'em These niggaz are felons, "HOT BOY" be which we yellin' Right know you close to the devil, and your lip gon' get you hurt Picture this, three ways gon' tear up your turf |
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