Pastor Troy - Do It lyrics
[Pastor Troy - Do It lyrics]
Do it (come on now) do it (come on now)
Do it (Come on) Do the damn thing
Come on let's start this shit
Shawty let's crank this shit
A little something for them hatin' hoes
Who gets nothin' but them knees and boes
Why y'all all in my grill
Why y'all can't keep it real
Always tryin' to plot and scheme
Want to live this life is just a dream
Ain't no I in teams
All the real niggas know what it mean
Catch me y'all just to slow
Hatin' hoes gotta let y'all go
Don't never try to stop my flo'
Won't tell you this shit no mo'
The baddest hoe that you ever seen
Two triple O, shawty bout that green
Naw they don't understand
These niggas don't understand
These muthafuckers think we playin
See they don't know what we sayin
Fake niggas in our grill
Fake niggas all in our grill
These niggas don't want to get to it
These niggas don't want to do it
Do it (come on now) do it (come on now)
Do it (Come on) Do the damn thing
You can tell a real nigga from the fake fake
A trill nigga that's down in the cake cake
A hot girl that's clean not stank stank
Some bad weave for somebody
So you took a little drank
So I guess it made you think
That you could when you can't
Wit the N with the ain't
Ain't nobody got time round
Here to playing round
Sucker with the big sack nigga
Better lay it down
Comin' through ain't bout that shady shit
Boy I'm mo' dirty than Dusty Rhodes
I drop the beat and rock the flo'
Representing that Que Bo Gold
So don't you try to test us out
Thinkin' we country wit no skills
'cause I drop the bass and tame the bass
Put this fire to yo grill
Well I was born in Illinois okay ah
Raised in Atlanta, G-A yah
Lived in New York and LA yea
My nigga I'm da shit no matter where I stay
Cause, uh, I was cut like that
Lil buddy I'm stacked like that
From the front to the side
To the back, Rasheeda
And I'm tight like that
I ain't never been worried bout another
Cutter her buddy, lil buddy I don't studder
9 double lock chrome for the lame lame
Big faces in my pocket not the chump change
Ride the Benz with the
Wood grain, grilled out, smoke frame
With the knock knock
38 pop pop all you haters just stop
Or you gone get dropped
Do it (come on now) do it (come on now)
Do it (Come on) Do the damn thing
Pastor Troy uh, Stick em, ha ha ha, stick em
Fuck them pussy niggas and who ever wit em
All I say is sic em and there go my boys
D-S-G-B, Pastor damn Troy
Boy you ain't ready boy you don't want it
Boy we ain't ready, bitch get disappointed
Shit, all I know is southern blo'd
Not lower than a dime
From thirty piece to quarter ki
We strictly on the grind
No time to spit no evidence, no evidence
No charge since they ain't got no evidence
I gave them my lil boy
The scars from my hand as
I crank up the speaker
Drop the bomb on you bitches
Pastor and Rasheeda bitch, do it!
Do it (come on now) do it (come on now)
Do it (Come on) Do the damn thing
Do it (Come on) Do the damn thing
Come on let's start this shit
Shawty let's crank this shit
A little something for them hatin' hoes
Who gets nothin' but them knees and boes
Why y'all all in my grill
Why y'all can't keep it real
Always tryin' to plot and scheme
Want to live this life is just a dream
Ain't no I in teams
All the real niggas know what it mean
Catch me y'all just to slow
Hatin' hoes gotta let y'all go
Don't never try to stop my flo'
Won't tell you this shit no mo'
The baddest hoe that you ever seen
Two triple O, shawty bout that green
Naw they don't understand
These niggas don't understand
These muthafuckers think we playin
See they don't know what we sayin
Fake niggas in our grill
Fake niggas all in our grill
These niggas don't want to get to it
These niggas don't want to do it
Do it (come on now) do it (come on now)
Do it (Come on) Do the damn thing
You can tell a real nigga from the fake fake
A trill nigga that's down in the cake cake
A hot girl that's clean not stank stank
Some bad weave for somebody
So you took a little drank
So I guess it made you think
That you could when you can't
Wit the N with the ain't
Ain't nobody got time round
Here to playing round
Sucker with the big sack nigga
Better lay it down
Comin' through ain't bout that shady shit
Boy I'm mo' dirty than Dusty Rhodes
I drop the beat and rock the flo'
Representing that Que Bo Gold
So don't you try to test us out
Thinkin' we country wit no skills
'cause I drop the bass and tame the bass
Put this fire to yo grill
Well I was born in Illinois okay ah
Raised in Atlanta, G-A yah
Lived in New York and LA yea
My nigga I'm da shit no matter where I stay
Cause, uh, I was cut like that
Lil buddy I'm stacked like that
From the front to the side
To the back, Rasheeda
And I'm tight like that
I ain't never been worried bout another
Cutter her buddy, lil buddy I don't studder
9 double lock chrome for the lame lame
Big faces in my pocket not the chump change
Ride the Benz with the
Wood grain, grilled out, smoke frame
With the knock knock
38 pop pop all you haters just stop
Or you gone get dropped
Do it (come on now) do it (come on now)
Do it (Come on) Do the damn thing
Pastor Troy uh, Stick em, ha ha ha, stick em
Fuck them pussy niggas and who ever wit em
All I say is sic em and there go my boys
D-S-G-B, Pastor damn Troy
Boy you ain't ready boy you don't want it
Boy we ain't ready, bitch get disappointed
Shit, all I know is southern blo'd
Not lower than a dime
From thirty piece to quarter ki
We strictly on the grind
No time to spit no evidence, no evidence
No charge since they ain't got no evidence
I gave them my lil boy
The scars from my hand as
I crank up the speaker
Drop the bomb on you bitches
Pastor and Rasheeda bitch, do it!
Do it (come on now) do it (come on now)
Do it (Come on) Do the damn thing