B.G., Juvenile - Get in Line lyrics

B.G.

B.G. [Christopher Noel Dorsey] New Orleans, Louisiana, U.S. 🇺🇸

[B.G., Juvenile - Get in Line lyrics]

("One! Two! Three! Kick it!")

Nigga know I hate his guts
So he don't cross my path
Cause he know I've been survivin' all
Of the wars I had
Bitch-nigga called hisself killin' my dog
But he didn't, though
So I'm tyin' up him and his broad
Betta say somethin'
And it betta be what I wanna hear
I'm listenin' - scary bitches
Started shittin' and pissin'
You might see him on a milk carton
Dog - he still missin'
Somebody might catch him up on
A hook when they fishin'
Look, I've been itchin' to
Get bitches, money, and jewels
I know some nigga's got a package
- I'ma run with the fool


Through the years older playaz told me
To keep my head strong
Cause niggas is followers
And some of 'em led wrong
But, if I bust a cap in 'em
I will be dead wrong
They don't know what's happenin'
And I ain't gonna say it to 'em
Cause bitches be catchin'
Conversation inspectin'
And fuck up and give them
People some bad information
Now point the nigga out if he
Wan' do it with me
Step to the front of the line
Let me see who you be
Air and opportunity - that
Ain't nothin' to me
Look, I got somethin' I'm totin'
That'll cut you in three
("One! Two! Three! Kick it!")

You'se a certified clown in my eyes
That's the reason why half of your hood
Got shit bags on your side
You talk a good game
But, you a ho when they ride
Nigga don't have to look for you
- they know you inside
You probly got your tail in your ass
Your thumb in your mouth
Protected custody so you don't
Come in your house
Motherfucker, where all the shit you
Said you was 'bout?
Let you tell it - you been
'bout bustin' heads in the south

Can't be fuckin' with no lame, fake
Ain't even gon' watch your back, nigga
Get popped - can't handle
The pressure and rat, nigga
Take the whole clique down runnin' his lips
Can't come back in the bricks now
He'll get flipped
It's a cold game, but I don't give a fuck
My nigga i feel threatened by anybody
I'ma bust that nigga up my nigga
Then go get a mill, fuck my bitch
I take this game to heart
Unless niggas disagree

I'm a lil' man - stand
My ground no matter what
Glock glued to my hand - there's
No one you can trust
Niggas turned on they own nigga behind Geez
If I think they won't turn on me
I'm outta luck
So I roll first - cock and shoot first
Gotta stay over the head to duck a T-shirt
You want beef? You want war? You want me?
Nothin' between us but air and opportunity
Don't talk 'bout what you gon' do - do it
Nigga cause you're wastin' your breath
Go 'head, prove it, nigga
Shit's real - I ain't got time to fake
Time's money - I ain't got time to waste
But on the straight with me bein' real
To let others' niggas know I don't
Fake - ya gotta get killed
Oh, bitch-nigga playin' with a
Rich nigga like me
Ya wind up six feet, clown

Step up! Wherever the fuck you is, nigga
Don't throw a motherfuckin' brick
And hide your hand like a ol' pussy-ass
Nigga ("One! Two! Three! Kick it!")
Come out to the light
Nigga - let me see who you is
You wan' do me somethin' or
Harm my kids, nigga, show your face
Make it known you're beefin' with me
Know wh'I'm sayin'
Ol' scary-ass nigga gon' hide
Come out here, playa - catch
Me all over New Orleans, nigga
On the block, in the hood, wherever
BG, nigga, always on VL
We gon' keep it real - know wh'I'm sayin'
("One! Two! Three! Kick it!")

("One! Two! Three! Kick it!")

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