Verse One: {Lil` Ya}
Goin` for it all I want to ball fall
So give me some chip`s, I got`s a
Motherfuckin` nine on my hip,
I`m pissed, ain`t nothin` shakin`
Shit`s slow like before once again
I`m on the come up bro.
Called Yella out his house
Man, we got money to make
Scooped Tec off Infaret
Then we make shit shake, act a donkey
Dressed like junkies, gettin` word on the bird`s
Where they flyin`, I`m a kill you if you lyin`
His cousin gave me the urge to want me take
What you got, give me yo Yae, give me yo ring`s
And yo Boulevard watch, why you at take that
Link of yo neck, put it in my bag with the key`s
To yo Jag, I got to get yo gun`s out yo fuckin` attic
Don`t try to test my nut`s and make me use the automatic
I rat a tat it, on yo ass daddy make ya duck
When you see a nigga pluck, Boo-Koo
Bullets, at yo motherfuckin` dome,
Bitch, you should have knew you couldn`t run from the chrome
Chorus:
It`s best ya scram cuz I`m a champion
I`m dumpin` on `em
I`m actin` a motherfuckin` donkey on `em
I`m gettin` low down and dirty with the dirty thirty
Ya see I`m in yo neighbored hood and my nose dirty
{2x}
Verse Two: {Tec-9}
We be dumpin` on corner`s like
Nigga what it be like,
Nigga be hangin` all night to keep they grip tight
Everybody know I`m a fool on the come up move
My baby boy need`s new shoes
So what the fuck am I to do
Show a nigga how I act a ass on the trigger
Fully automatic M-11 nigga
So how you figure that I`m the nigga to fuck with
Graduated from slangin` Yae to this dope shit
Twenty dollars a bag is what I`m givin`
AK`s, Two Twenty Three`s, Momma still livin`
Momma tellin` me the rent`s due
Big brother doin` five called to tell me
It`s all on u, I became a man before my time
It`s on my mind, I`m now hustlin`
To pay bill`s and still make mine
Now I`m caught up in that game livin` day for day
I got reason`s to leave and reason`s to stay
To see the finer thing`s in life
Maybe get myself a wife, and settle down
But all these dope fiend`s keep comin` around
What ya got? could it be they all want to see the
Nigga with the fiyah out that 1-2-3!
Call me the capital, white natural
Bullet lyrical dropper, I run with nigga`s
Who don`t give a fuck and carry chopper`s
I got to have it daddy, I`m on the come up
Label me Black Connection 2-2-6! we blowin` up
How ya dealin` rock`s, keep them snap`s in yo pocket
Cuz I see the PO-PO`s, y`all know them hoes
Tryin` to keep a nigga down
But I`m a hound, I hate to do it to my own kind
But ain`t love, if you takin` mine
Lyin` think and behind, say what`s up to
My nine milli settin` of somethin` silly
Now tell me what ya wanna do cuz
I`m dumpin` on `em! Bitch!
Third Verse: {Yella Boy}
I`m loaded got my double shot now
It`s time to rock shop
I`m aimin` for the dome I`m gonna make
Everybody drop the ground
I`m a buck `em down with them double shot`s
I be`s after a bitch a nigga de knock`s upon the front door
I`m a play it smooth, then wipe the floor
The door cracked, I kicked it in and let both shoot`s go
Three nigga`s bangin` up all them clown`s hit the floor
I found the Ca§h in a glass trash bag stash
I count`s the coke and out the back
I made a swift dash
Hopped in my hoptie headed Uptown
I ditched the body so it wouldn`t let the shell`s found
My criminal thought as I got closer to the bus station
No question`s ask I call my dog
Let`s take a fuckin` vacation
I got to run and the money fuck the city blue`s
Ya Bitch!
Chorus {Till the end}
