Continúa después del anuncio

    Ugh! We dropped again on you bitch ass, niggaz! [Laughing]
    Every album like a bird!

    If you buy Trill shit
    Then you buy that real shit!
    And the D.A. and the judge gone get it
    If they don't free Pimp C, bitch!
    And when I drop shit, it's hot shit!
    You know I ain lyin'
    I only gave y'all half the shit, but I got more in my mind!
    If you heard that green and yellow cd
    You bout love a lil nigga!
    You a girl, in this thug world
    You might wanna fuck a lil nigga!

    I don't really give a fuck
    About the fortune and fame
    I want the money
    So my daughter wouldn't have to beg, no mane!
    I'm in the studio, daily nigga!
    Wit my pen and my pad
    Where I run rhymes about my life
    And how I'm missin' my dad
    Dedicated, to makin' these hundreds
    I get paid for my shows
    Niggaz hate it, cause' my name
    That's what takin' these hoes!
    Thirty-six zones, on the fuckin shelf at the stores
    Ya better get before it goes! .....And

    [Chorus: x4]
    Every album like a bird....steady flippin!
    Every album like a bird!

    [Lil' Boosie]
    My first album was bout a 7 (It was aight)
    But I talk me some shit
    About this world
    About these girls
    And how I dog, my bitch!
    My next album was bootleg
    Ain even come to the stores
    Cause a nigga stole it
    And they sold it for the price of some "O"!
    Six months later, they heard that "For My Thugs"
    The cd that have you niggaz and bitches tearin da club up! Huh!

    Continúa después del anuncio

    Ain nothing but raw rhymes
    No flashy shit, just hard times!
    Nigga don't wanna hear bout ballin
    If he ain' got a damn quarter!
    Ya hear me talkin'
    But to see that ghetto D, that's real shit!
    Cause I'm feelin' the power
    Cause I get 5 G's, to be on stage, for a half a hour!
    Shit, I heard... (Don't say no names) ... wanna holla!
    I want 2 billion dollars
    Not no million, you dick rider!

    I got two 24,80's dawg
    They filled up!
    With shit that'll make you get kill
    Or even kill us!
    Then I drop....huh!
    Then I drop again!
    And I get sicker every time
    I touch dat fuckin' pen! ...And

    [Chorus]

    Every album like a bird in a corner store
    Keep it real boy
    Trill got the good dope!
    See grill, big bills, with a thick hoe
    About an ounce of that good dolja
    We gone big blow!

    Wanna beef, motherfucker?!
    Ain no problem with that!
    I barely hit you in ya chest
    Made it come out ya back!
    And while you put yo look on hard
    I be rippin them tracks
    And by the time it hit the shelves
    I'll be gettin' it back!
    So many niggaz playa hatin'
    So I'm totin a gat
    Pistol grippin', steady waiting on a nigga to act!
    That's how you livin' when you on
    And ya got that crack
    And wake up with a new bone
    I can get left flat!

    So fuck that, ride strapped
    Give another nigga what he deserve
    And I'ma keep a bad bitch
    Cause I'm flippin' these birds!
    Trill niggaz bout to fuck it up
    I know you nerv (nervous)
    Because them niggaz got dope in them birds!

    [Chorus]

    Información de la canción

    Composición:

    ¿Los datos están equivocados?

    Enviar revisión