Digital Scale

G-Unit

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    I put my coke on a digital scale
    I put my weed on a digital scale
    I put my dope on a digital scale
    It's time to re-up what my scale read

    We got eightballs, sevens, fourteens, and oz's
    Sixty-two eights of that raw, imported keys
    Half of chicken whole chicken
    Niggas got to cop 'n' go, yo
    I said you niggas got to cop 'n' go
    This is like fast food, nigga
    May I take your order

    I require nothin' cookin' but bakin'
    Soda 'n' water ice, cold
    That's crack inside that pyrex
    We get the work, then move the work
    The pressure we apply next
    Every now and then, a nigga set-trip
    I8 bmw; I'm electric
    Keep that hammer around me
    In case shit get hectic
    Shit pop off when I'm rhymin', I protect it
    Fuck around

    I put my coke on a digital scale
    I put my weed on a digital scale
    I put my dope on a digital scale
    It's time to re-up what my scale read

    Hand me that plastic bag right there, yayo
    Baggin' up half a brick
    My lawyer sittin' on the couch
    He said it's cool, buck I swear I won't open my mouth
    I weigh a bag on the triple-beam scale
    I'm all kushed out, coke under my fingernail
    My uncle been playin' with that powder, and I can tell
    You know that crack smell, and he lookin' all frail
    My sister need bail; she just caught the weed sell

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    Now the feds on her trail
    I just got the email
    Shit crazy, but I'm still cookin' up babies
    Hookin' up my niggas daily with this dope
    Get out and get some, nigga
    Can't pay me if you broke, no
    Let a nigga hang himself just give him enough rope
    I get it fresh out the boat

    I put my coke on a digital scale
    I put my weed on a digital scale
    I put my dope on a digital scale
    It's time to re-up what my scale read
    Numbers don't lie; scales don't either
    Every time you out, fiends wanna reach ya
    Out with some bitches, fiends wanna call
    In the club with my niggas, fiends wanna call
    When I'm waitin' on them, man they never call

    The life of a hustler in a nutshell
    G-5 eatin' snakes, soup and raw fish
    Snakes see the ray phantom off of raw fish
    My main bitch is like bonnie parker
    My side bitch is like clyde barrow
    They start to shoot you up shit's creek without a paddle

    They roll up and smoke you like kumar and harold
    Catch 'em in the whip like caine cousin, harold
    My nigga flippin' on his p.o. Cause he can't travel
    You owe me, I take your child for collateral
    Gun wave, hello
    Shots echo
    Won't save money switch to gecko

    You known from the get-go
    I ain't 'bout to let nobody play with my green
    When they coward belly yellow
    Polka-dot carbine on your chest
    Screamin' hold on, hold on
    You see my face and let go

    I'm from the n.o. Better check the death toll
    You was playin' casanova
    Cookin' bitches casserole
    I was on the ave with o's, me and red taggin' toes
    On the greyhound bus
    Pounds in my baggy clothes

    I put my coke on a digital scale
    I put my weed on a digital scale
    I put my dope on a digital scale
    It's time to re-up what my scale read

    Información de la canción

    Composición: C. Stewart, D. Brown, M. Bernard, C. Jackson, C. Lloyd y E. Gamzoyan

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