Cappadonna, Two da Road, Timbo King, Suga Bang Bang, Solomon Childs - Spit That G lyrics

[Cappadonna, Two da Road, Timbo King, Suga Bang Bang, Solomon Childs - Spit That G lyrics]

Uh, huh, ye yeah, it's like this
If you got big dollars, Spit That G
KnowwhatImean? If you got mad honies
Spit That G if you gettin dough or whatever
Whips, phats cars, new kicks, Spit That G
This is how we do it
Word up, it's like this, check it out
Check it out, yo

If you got ladies (Spit That G)
If you got endo (Spit That G)
If you got currency (Spit That G)
WTC (Spit That G)
Say Spit That G (Spit That G)
Say Spit That G (Spit That G)
More sex and money make the world go round
Dumb Diddy snatch ya chick up
Hit the floor now

Want money? I need bodyguards, as
Big as stiff worker, rC
Me mega-poverty, New York City
Dollar signs prevail
Five place love, exclusive, nine millimeters
My voice box run through
Tracks like wild cheetahs
Champagne and catfish at the club, Geda's
Janet Jackson figures, I'm on now
Gucci sweaters for all of my niggas
Calm braided, chrome rims
Ghetto birds with pink Timb's
A box of shells for the Cola for Kim's
Sponsored by the Clan, see
Pop more vanilla cherry than Luke Perry
Now tell me this ain't the thug life

Talkin bout the good life
Livin in da ghetto, wild

What happened to the fist
Fights, the MC battles, nigga?
Slingin newspapers on the Verrazano Narrow
Gettin off the fifth train on
Carol to get wet
Summertime sweat got me rockin short sets
From the loaf tops, no socks, Hawaiian suit's
Tied nicely with the wooden
Spoon for the scoop
Young girls playin double Dutch
And hoola hoops
Cap'n Crunch and Fruit Loops
Camels and goose boots
It was the FUBU, the stripped Lee's
The Hoopty's
Five dollar bag of weed's a real bag of weed
A ki was at twenty g's
Hurled one at dope fiends
OD, niggas throwin bricks at my click
Now Giulianni got the state
NY locked like cuff
Black Bad Boys gettin rich like Puff
The Excursion truck need two spots
On the parkin lot
A stash box for the top, the lock

Brook nam, grace and charm
Remain calm with chron's of Lebanon
Black man author
Green Leprechaun from Lexington
P sunn, I crack ya face with the gun
Smack the taste outta ya dunn
Ya fam's on the run now y'all respect Sunn
Shine all type direction
Hype discretion with the right connection
Recitin lessons
But my wea-pon reign automatic projection
Blow out ya reception
Hose through ya reflection
Old gold complexion
Sunn I'll swoll to perfection
Did a fifteen, me and my team
Supreme legends
Twenty-one-two, I get that money with the Wu
Up in the Cayman Islands
Bitches sweeter than honey dew

Eh yo, let's talk about it
(Let's talk about it)
Eh yo, we be about it, be about it
Yo, we be about it (Killa Beez)
We all about it, yo we all about it
We all about it, we be about it
Killa Beez, yo we all about it

Yo I slap money for the love of rap money
Rock gully, high cop that bag of bomb
This grown man talk, I could bag ya mom
Watch and learn, block got lots of germ
Straight like that, bake cake, ate like that
Love to kill, I just hate like that
Yo these guns yap bodies on it
Ain't nobody want it
Wide body six hundred, brand new papers on it
Front roast up, corner thugs roast up
Mix the black with green
Watch me mack the scene
As a matter of fact, them caps gon' bang
Brook lawn pack those things, crack cocaine

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