Killer Mike, T.I., Bun B, Trouble - Big Beast lyrics
[Killer Mike, T.I., Bun B, Trouble - Big Beast lyrics]
Hardcore G shit, homie, I don't play around
Ain't shit sweet bout the
Peach - this Atlanta, clown
Home of the dealers and the
Strippers and the clubs, though
Catch you coming out that Magic
City with a snub, ho
Lurking in the club on tourist motherfuckers
Welcome to Atlanta, up your jewelry
Motherfucker!
These monkey niggas looking for
Some Luda and Jermaine
And all that nigga found was
A Ruger and some pain
Pow, motherfucker, pow! Come up off the chain
(ay, ay)
Pow, motherfucker, pow! One off in the brain
(ay, ay) we some money hungry wolves
And we down to eat the rich
Your bodyguard ain't shit
We strip him like a stripper bitch
These real-ass killers move in
Silence with violence the minute it set off
We the motherfucking wildest
How you from Atlanta they ain't
Never speak a pun
Where everybody got a sack of dope and a gun
And you know just how it go
We ain't playing round with that bullshit
Nigga, we ain't let that shit go
When you come here, you better come correct
This real G shit, you gotta show respect
Once upon a time in the projects
An OG saw a young Bun B as a prospect
Thought that I would understand the streets
From a very young age
So he opened up the G code to the front page
He sat me on the porch, said
"This where little dogs sit"
Pointed at the yard (yard) , said
"That's where big dogs shit" (shit) he said
"Don't leave 'til your ass get growed
And don't come back 'til your ass get throwed
Whatever you want is whatever you can have
Bring the pain and leave 'em wet
Like they soaking in some salve
When you step out on the ave (ave)
Make sure they wanna see ya (wanna see ya)
'Cause being trill is an onomatopoeia
Be about it like a G
A hater wanna catch you slipping
Try to be a Jordan
(Jordan) , but settle for a Pippen"
Player, I ain't even tripping
But I don't really care
'Cause my pistol's in your face
So put your hands in the air
And you know just how it go
We ain't playing round with that bullshit
Nigga, we ain't let that shit go
When you come here, you better come correct
This real G shit, you gotta show respect
'96 I'm riding with a pistol grip
Banana clip from Simpson Road to Adamsville
I'm repping this Atlanta shit
Nigga trying to handle up
Let's see can they handle this
A hundred round at 'em
That ain't no Louisiana shit
Drinking on that Hennessey
Blowing on that cannabis
Amerikkka's nightmare, trap nigga fantasy
A record full of felonies
Searching for a better me
But choppers go off in my
Hood like Iraq, Cuba, tel Aviv
Shoot a nigga, let him bleed fuck him, shorty
Sucka nigga, I'll never be
Don't give a fuck about it
Quick to run up on that Audi
Make 'em get the fuck up out it
Nigga better be about it, he deserve it
He allow it what's a coward to a kamikaze?
He ain't robbed a man
Ain't predator or prey the law
Of nature where I stay
I catch you slipping with that
K, ain't no illusion, no confusion
Better come up off that cake and
All that jewelry or you snoozing
And you know just how it go
We ain't playing round with that bullshit
Nigga, we ain't let that shit go
When you come here, you better come correct
This real G shit, you gotta show respect
Wha da dang, wha da da da da dang
Listen to my Kimber 45 go bang
Bang bang, Grindtime, rap gang
We the readers of the books and
The leaders of the crooks
Predators, we eyeballing all of y'all lames
Let me fall off
I'm taking all of y'all chains
All of y'all watches and all of y'all cars
Well, who he talking to? All of y'all stars
All of y'all rappers and producers and such
No homo promo, homie
You might get your ass touched
Like Def Jam circa '83, you get rushed
If you rolling with some winners
Then you rolling with us
I know some dumb country niggas
But them niggas ain't me
Know they dress and look the part
But them niggas ain't G
I don't make dance music, this is RAP!
Opposite of the sucker shit they play on TV!
And you know just how it go
We ain't playing round with that bullshit
Nigga, we ain't let that shit go
When you come here, you better come correct
This real G shit, you gotta show respect
Ain't shit sweet bout the
Peach - this Atlanta, clown
Home of the dealers and the
Strippers and the clubs, though
Catch you coming out that Magic
City with a snub, ho
Lurking in the club on tourist motherfuckers
Welcome to Atlanta, up your jewelry
Motherfucker!
These monkey niggas looking for
Some Luda and Jermaine
And all that nigga found was
A Ruger and some pain
Pow, motherfucker, pow! Come up off the chain
(ay, ay)
Pow, motherfucker, pow! One off in the brain
(ay, ay) we some money hungry wolves
And we down to eat the rich
Your bodyguard ain't shit
We strip him like a stripper bitch
These real-ass killers move in
Silence with violence the minute it set off
We the motherfucking wildest
How you from Atlanta they ain't
Never speak a pun
Where everybody got a sack of dope and a gun
And you know just how it go
We ain't playing round with that bullshit
Nigga, we ain't let that shit go
When you come here, you better come correct
This real G shit, you gotta show respect
Once upon a time in the projects
An OG saw a young Bun B as a prospect
Thought that I would understand the streets
From a very young age
So he opened up the G code to the front page
He sat me on the porch, said
"This where little dogs sit"
Pointed at the yard (yard) , said
"That's where big dogs shit" (shit) he said
"Don't leave 'til your ass get growed
And don't come back 'til your ass get throwed
Whatever you want is whatever you can have
Bring the pain and leave 'em wet
Like they soaking in some salve
When you step out on the ave (ave)
Make sure they wanna see ya (wanna see ya)
'Cause being trill is an onomatopoeia
Be about it like a G
A hater wanna catch you slipping
Try to be a Jordan
(Jordan) , but settle for a Pippen"
Player, I ain't even tripping
But I don't really care
'Cause my pistol's in your face
So put your hands in the air
And you know just how it go
We ain't playing round with that bullshit
Nigga, we ain't let that shit go
When you come here, you better come correct
This real G shit, you gotta show respect
'96 I'm riding with a pistol grip
Banana clip from Simpson Road to Adamsville
I'm repping this Atlanta shit
Nigga trying to handle up
Let's see can they handle this
A hundred round at 'em
That ain't no Louisiana shit
Drinking on that Hennessey
Blowing on that cannabis
Amerikkka's nightmare, trap nigga fantasy
A record full of felonies
Searching for a better me
But choppers go off in my
Hood like Iraq, Cuba, tel Aviv
Shoot a nigga, let him bleed fuck him, shorty
Sucka nigga, I'll never be
Don't give a fuck about it
Quick to run up on that Audi
Make 'em get the fuck up out it
Nigga better be about it, he deserve it
He allow it what's a coward to a kamikaze?
He ain't robbed a man
Ain't predator or prey the law
Of nature where I stay
I catch you slipping with that
K, ain't no illusion, no confusion
Better come up off that cake and
All that jewelry or you snoozing
And you know just how it go
We ain't playing round with that bullshit
Nigga, we ain't let that shit go
When you come here, you better come correct
This real G shit, you gotta show respect
Wha da dang, wha da da da da dang
Listen to my Kimber 45 go bang
Bang bang, Grindtime, rap gang
We the readers of the books and
The leaders of the crooks
Predators, we eyeballing all of y'all lames
Let me fall off
I'm taking all of y'all chains
All of y'all watches and all of y'all cars
Well, who he talking to? All of y'all stars
All of y'all rappers and producers and such
No homo promo, homie
You might get your ass touched
Like Def Jam circa '83, you get rushed
If you rolling with some winners
Then you rolling with us
I know some dumb country niggas
But them niggas ain't me
Know they dress and look the part
But them niggas ain't G
I don't make dance music, this is RAP!
Opposite of the sucker shit they play on TV!
And you know just how it go
We ain't playing round with that bullshit
Nigga, we ain't let that shit go
When you come here, you better come correct
This real G shit, you gotta show respect
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