Mun-E, Tommy G, South Park Mexican, L.T. (US1), Baby Bash - Fo Sho ( Makes the World Go Round) lyrics

Fo sho, smoking choppers and helicopters
Zippers and kicking trippers, fo sho

Fo sho, better have the bread
Fo sho, nigga gon end up dead
Fo sho, riding on them chromed out twins
Fo sho, young nigga you best stack your ends
Fo sho, nigga better do your thang
Fo sho, face down in this game
Fo sho, fo sho

Now let me introduce myself, it's Mr pMG
Nigga your boy LT, that represent B-O-D
I stay on track and stay on grind
Toss it up and shut it down
Represent for H Town
Pop my trunk and show some ride
And if they coming with some plex
We breaking backs and snapping necks
Putting bitch niggas in check
Hit your block and straight wreck


Naw I mean nigga we coming
You and your boys start to running
Fore' my K start to drumming
Have your whole hood humming
Tear it up don't give a fuck
We keeping lean up in our cup
Its Southeast nigga what
We got them Caddies on the bump
With wood grain, swang and bang
Make it hot like a flame
Its four hundred for them thangs
You keep it cool it might change
And that's for real nigga chill
Me and my boys staying trill
Down in H Town with them grills
Slabbed out and popping pills

Got the game and perfected
I found the shop and then wreck it
Competition gets corrected
By this lyrical lethal weapon
Steadily chilling my checking
So bustas keep on stepping
I'm Phat Money connected
Your rank you better protect it
Expect the unexpected
What you can't see or feel or you gone
Respect this is kinda like popping a pill
When the pain gets hectic
For when the rain gets reckless
Its a damn shame they sweat this
My diamond rings and necklace
Throwed in the game from Texas
And still breaking em off
And get tossed when I floss
Cause, I'm representing the South

Cause, I'm all about my paper, everyday a
Straight heart breaker
Guaranteed to spray ya
We are, making a move to make em bounce
Dropping lyrics in these rhymes
Popping game from the South

Its all gravy it's all groovy
I smoke em like a doobie
Feed him lead for what he said
Put him to bed like Sleeping Beauty
Stay aware for what's out there
I smell hate all in the air
Someone asked me what my race was
I told em it was player
Very rare, my breed is almost extinct
The way I walk
The way I think, the shit I wear
The shit I drink the way I stink
I smell like fruity hydro ponic
When haters see my car
They turn around and vomit
Mama mia, Versacci clothes from the galleria
I fuck a country singer
And a Houston ballerina
Chef Coy, cooking ice cream on my stove top
As your bitch, lick my dick like a blow pop
From the old spot
When I dance I do the robot
Got hoes across Texas
From Dallas to Beaumont
Still I'm loco, fuck any player hating hotho
You ain't got no love for me
Then I ain't got no love down poco

Its the return of the
Grain gripper, main nigga, cocaine flipper
Drain dripper
It's Baby Basherini man a brain ripper
Strange liquor, in the mix like margarita
Keep a heater millimeter
In my vita plus a two liter
Salty latino, throwing bombs like Dan Marino
Pacino, I'm down and dirty when it
Come to my c notes
I'm off the chizzle when I sizzle
Doing my thug thizzle on the rizzle
These playas gon blow my duz fizzle
What's really, bullets floating like a yacht
17 motherfuckers dead let em rot
Gotta get my scratch right
So nigga act right, don't make me buck em
And if these fools make a move
Well then mymotherfuck em

Well I'm in to potent paper, major dived-ends
Snatching breaking lyrics
Fucking bitches best friends
Can painted legendary streets
Or wrapping bricks cooking cheese
Living major bout my paper
Keeping hoes bending knees
Drop it like to ease my stress
Puffing on hydro leaves
Rolling only with my team
Breaking bread forfilling needs
Its a way of life
That was destined in my plan
Prices steep when I creep
Shipping unloaded from bands