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Lyrics:
(Feat. Big Rocc and Tha Chill)
(VERSE 1: MC Ren) Niggas in the hood lookin' at me crazy Tellin' niggas like they wanna fuck my old lady Same fuckin' shit every day at 8 o'clock Nigga, start my day off raisin off the cock I throw the khakis on, with the t-shirt Never knowin' when a nigga might hit the dirt I'm thinkin', how in the fuck can I get high quicker Mix the blunt with some muthafuckin malt liquor These niggas that I love, I don't trust em, but I stay close to em In case I gotta do em We from the same set, but that don't mean shit no mo' I be premeditatin with the .44 (.44) My hoe be tellin' a nigga to peel they caps back 'Cause I know where them niggas hide they shit at Shit be on my mind, return a shot call Broke as fuck, it's about to get hot, y'all
(CHORUS: Big Rocc) Niggas starvin while you're home with the mills Niggas killin' while you're doin' dope deals Out flossin, throwin' 100 $ bills Time to set yo ass up for the kill Death of a shot caller, who can you trust? It might be your number 1 nigga that bust A cap, he's the next one to take charge Smoke him and his bitch in his backyard
(VERSE 2: MC Ren) A nigga's sittin' on the curb Hear that nigga come bumpin with the suburb Got my niggas on point, same niggas he be fuckin' hoes with And rollin' up the blunts when he wanna get lit Homie, when that nigga put the mutahfucka in park? That's the signal, little nigga, pump 3 in his heart Don't feel shit, 'cause it's real shit, he a bitch Niggas in the hood doin' bad while he gettin' rich Off this shit we be killin' niggas fo' Can't make a move less this muthafucka say so Nigga, fuck that, I'm runnin' this shit I'ma look him in his eyes when his punk-ass gettin' hit But if you miss, nigga, I'ma kill you 'Cause if he get away, muthafucka, then we all through Fuck 3 shots, nigga, add 2 And handle what the fuck you gotta do Kill the shot caller
Man, you know we been smokin' niggas for this muthafucka This nigga ain't paid us shit, man (I know, dog) Hold up, hold up, hold up, dog Man, gimme the gat, I - damn Hey nigga, you got my muthafuckin money? Nigga, fuck yo money, nigga No nigga, fuck you (*Shots*) Oh shit, oh shit... Damn!
(VERSE 3: Tha Chill) These O.G.'s got me twisted like twizzler Got me heated and hot, and all I'm thinkin' is killin' ya Peelin ya cap back, like Starter, fool I'm comin' to get you niggas off my block, so I pack a full Glock with big slugs, and you know I buck no doubs Cause you know a nigga steelo, how I did them fools a week ago One week passed, I'm hearin you wanna wet us When you see Ren, Rocc, Tha Chill, you're puttin' on the jetters What the fuck? These niggas tryin' to bust on me? So I'm cockin up the can and ready to make them do some gas And do some flippin, and all that Cause niggas out here shot call, get they ass jacked And that's the main fact, big payback for you punk muthafucks Disrespectin the crew, it's mandatory that I buck Ass down from Comptown, Mr. Shot Caller Gonna be a fast faller if he ain't a fast talker Fast walker, or better yet better be a fast runner Chill on the scope with the cannon, finna gun ya Dumpin 9 to the gut like 'Nigga, what?' This ol' B.G. big baller, fuck the muthafuckin shot caller
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