Freddie Gibbs, HAYES - For My N*ggas lyrics

This is for my niggas
This is for my nigga-nigga
This is for my niggas, my niggas on the block

My niggas bang, my niggas
Brawl, my niggas slang, my niggas ball
My niggas ain't trippin they
Play they position
And handle the mission whenever I call
My dogs, runnin from laws
Pimpin money from broads
You show me a bitch and I show her this
Pimpin I bet you I get in them draws
Oh nah, Gibbs don't play with them
Hoes, he be breakin them hoes
Hit the strip and catch a date for them hoes
Bout my paper neighbor
I expect my cake from them hoes
And if you pay it like you weigh
It you can skate with them hoes, yup
My niggas don't keep 'em or
Cuff 'em end of discussion
Niggas out here bluffin, mother had
'em, mother love 'em, motherfuck 'em
Cause even they mothers won't be
Able to identify 'em
Had to fry 'em, hit them with that iron
My niggas don't talk, my niggas don't bitch
My niggas don't snitch
Niggas is hungry, fiend for chips
My niggas'll flip and run in your shit
My niggas got Ks, my niggas got
MACs, my niggas got TECs, my niggas equipped
Man my niggas down to leave your
Body stiff for the chips this for my niggas

Fuck them fake niggas they don't
Know what loyal is
Dropped out of school and started
Fights with the spoiled kids
Thought I was broke 'til I
Discovered what a brick was
850 thousand got me big love
Tricked some, became a legend
In them strip clubs
But, I was bigger in the streets
From fuckin with them thugs
A hood rat's dream, a ghetto nigga's idol
We the champions in the streets
Man we hold the title
Made more money off the block
Than preachers with them bibles
Don't be steppin out of
Line that gets suicidal
I got a lot of killers, we got a
Lot of guns, no respect for shit
Murder anyone

Hayes the heroin man
Gibbs slang them the weed
You got what they want, I got what they need
These niggas bleed for the yola
From Gary to Minnesota, hold the toaster
'til I'm rolling in Rovers and Testarossas
And Bentleys without the top, what you got?
No patience and an army
Of hundred niggas thats
Outside waiting, for a nigga to front
That'll get him Christmas treed
Lit up real good in front his whole family
Man, this ain't no fuckin game
You don't wanna see me with that thang
Ducked off in a cud box with an SK
And a Glock don't test my aim
Don't test my crew keep more
Protection than an AIDS
Clinic, trunk big enough to
Fit you, ten bricks, and a gauge in it
Yeah, hundred round drum in my
And niggas'll if they get out of line
Pull out the llama, you dead where you layin
And
Bullets will spray if you fuckin with mine
Nigga
I love my block, they make that hood paper
Stack for me, my mother proud of me
Still think it's rap money