Theodore Unit, Ghostface Killah, Trife Diesel - Smith Brothers lyrics
[Theodore Unit, Ghostface Killah, Trife Diesel - Smith Brothers lyrics]
Uh, huh, ba-by, ba-by, uh, it's goin' down
This is that muthafuckin' nigga
(off the sound) yeah, uh
Bulletproof muthafuckin' gooses outdoors
For all the streets
All the dusts in the streets
(Let me get a sip of that
Let me get a sip of that)
Rusty projects and all that
The radiators is bulletproof
Yo, yo, come on, ah yo yo
What up cousin, this is most high wizardry
Got's to watch niggas
So I stay on my grizzly (uh)
These young boys comin' at me (yeah)
Lookin' at these faggots, like yeah
You get amped off of Pepsi
Damn, what kind of cards you delt
Does your elevator go up?
(Nope) You ain't rap too tight
Right, you can tell me, G-H to O-S T
Two hundred Bees'll get you killed
By coke head Skeet
This is murder, you can get it
If my fam don't eat
And, we slam niggas, like we Lil' Malik
We want that Powerball money, Easter bunnies
Wool-light money hey dunny
We rock a half of mill and look bummy
And bounce to the projects, pop Becks
Cop Tec's
Top wrecks, execs got next, what the heck
I'm fed, you'se dead, that's said
No more wet the cameras is rollin', bitch
Quiet on the set
You can never front on
Jump or you get lumped on
Burners in your face
Don't you get nervous on me
We got so many gats, and them big Mac's
Somebody get the boy
I get the wildin' on black
Tell 'em, we will, we will, rock you, pop you
We will, we still, got you, got you
Aiyo aiyo, it ain't a game (nah)
This kid is serious about his change (uh huh)
Ya'll a bunch of wacko jacko's
Amped off your names call me Sugar Ray
The way I dance on you lames
My right hand'll sting you and ding you
Leave stamps on your brain i got
Out of state of niggas that'll kill for beers
Cuz you
Easy to pop like balloons filled with air
I dare ya'll faggot asses
Punch niggas with glasses
Back in my third grade classes
Squeezin' asses
My niggas is never over, understand
I'm a 2Pac fan
This is the realest shit I ever wrote
Butter soft, lead the coke, matchin' my kicks
So make sure, you get my sneakers when
You snappin' that flick and I advise you
To carry that Bible for survival
Surprise you, return like Jesus
Without the costume
Come on young'n, you dumbin'
I've been doin' this shit since King Culling
Cookin' grams in the oven
You can never front on
Jump or you get lumped on
Burners in your face
Don't you get nervous on me
We got so many gats, and them big Mac's
Somebody get the boy
I get the wildin' on black
Tell 'em, we will, we will, rock you, pop you
We will, we still, got you, got you
You can never front on
Jump or you get lumped on
Burners in your face
Don't you get nervous on me
We got so many gats, and them big Mac's
Somebody get the boy
I get the wildin' on black
Tell 'em, we will, we will, rock you, pop you
We will, we still, got you, got you
This is that muthafuckin' nigga
(off the sound) yeah, uh
Bulletproof muthafuckin' gooses outdoors
For all the streets
All the dusts in the streets
(Let me get a sip of that
Let me get a sip of that)
Rusty projects and all that
The radiators is bulletproof
Yo, yo, come on, ah yo yo
What up cousin, this is most high wizardry
Got's to watch niggas
So I stay on my grizzly (uh)
These young boys comin' at me (yeah)
Lookin' at these faggots, like yeah
You get amped off of Pepsi
Damn, what kind of cards you delt
Does your elevator go up?
(Nope) You ain't rap too tight
Right, you can tell me, G-H to O-S T
Two hundred Bees'll get you killed
By coke head Skeet
This is murder, you can get it
If my fam don't eat
And, we slam niggas, like we Lil' Malik
We want that Powerball money, Easter bunnies
Wool-light money hey dunny
We rock a half of mill and look bummy
And bounce to the projects, pop Becks
Cop Tec's
Top wrecks, execs got next, what the heck
I'm fed, you'se dead, that's said
No more wet the cameras is rollin', bitch
Quiet on the set
You can never front on
Jump or you get lumped on
Burners in your face
Don't you get nervous on me
We got so many gats, and them big Mac's
Somebody get the boy
I get the wildin' on black
Tell 'em, we will, we will, rock you, pop you
We will, we still, got you, got you
Aiyo aiyo, it ain't a game (nah)
This kid is serious about his change (uh huh)
Ya'll a bunch of wacko jacko's
Amped off your names call me Sugar Ray
The way I dance on you lames
My right hand'll sting you and ding you
Leave stamps on your brain i got
Out of state of niggas that'll kill for beers
Cuz you
Easy to pop like balloons filled with air
I dare ya'll faggot asses
Punch niggas with glasses
Back in my third grade classes
Squeezin' asses
My niggas is never over, understand
I'm a 2Pac fan
This is the realest shit I ever wrote
Butter soft, lead the coke, matchin' my kicks
So make sure, you get my sneakers when
You snappin' that flick and I advise you
To carry that Bible for survival
Surprise you, return like Jesus
Without the costume
Come on young'n, you dumbin'
I've been doin' this shit since King Culling
Cookin' grams in the oven
You can never front on
Jump or you get lumped on
Burners in your face
Don't you get nervous on me
We got so many gats, and them big Mac's
Somebody get the boy
I get the wildin' on black
Tell 'em, we will, we will, rock you, pop you
We will, we still, got you, got you
You can never front on
Jump or you get lumped on
Burners in your face
Don't you get nervous on me
We got so many gats, and them big Mac's
Somebody get the boy
I get the wildin' on black
Tell 'em, we will, we will, rock you, pop you
We will, we still, got you, got you