Альбом Trick Daddy

[Нет текста]

f/ The Lost Tribe, JV

[Trick]
I tellin ya boy I got them boys 
Dog I be tryin to tell em

Verse 1: Trick Daddy, The Lost Tribe

You can't catch me boy
Don't upset me boy
Touch me my dog a wet 'cha boy
Never disrespect me boy
Dog you better check ya' boy
Cause I'll never thirty-eight 'cha I'll tech ya boy
Pray to God protect ya boy
Cause when it's on it's like Electra boy
I know you wanna go home but we ain't gone let 'cha boy
And if my money ain't right you better stretch it boy
Cause when it's bout that bread I'm sweat 'cha boy
You see I'm riding round in a lexus boy
Cause we rob a lot like a Texas boy
And if ya aint Slip-N-Slide I'll wreck ya boy
Give me fifty feet stay out my section boy
Disrespecting hoes like we sexist boy
You know a nigga keep a Smith and Wesson boy
I don't mean no harm just protection boy
We can shoot it out like a Western boy

Chorus: repeat 2x

I suggest you don't be (fucking with me)
And if you don't wanna die (don't be fucking with me)
Don't wanna lose ya' life (don't be fucking with me)
And if you ain't slip-n-slide (don't be fucking with me)

Verse 2: (Trick Daddy)

I went ahead and bought that Benzo boy
That bitch with 20-inch Lorenzo's boy
And the big crib is hittin boy
Bought me rollie with them bulletproof windows boy
Cause them jack boys you know that got the energy boy
Fuck if I offend ya boy
Got a place I'll send ya' boy
And a clip I'll lend ya' boy
Tell the morgue that a real nigga send ya' boy
Cause I bend ya' boy
And I want every dime that ya' got boy
I need some D's on my drop boy
And two ki's in the spot boy
See the real niggaz just want stop boy
Huh, we on top boy

Chorus:

I suggest you don't be (fucking with me)
And if you don't wanna die (don't be fucking with me)
Don't wanna lose ya' life (don't be fucking with me)
And if you ain't slip-n-slide (don't be fucking with me)

Verse 3: The Lost Tribe

You can't fuck with the south boy
Watch'cha mouth boy
Fucking with the tribe in this game a take ya' out boy
In 95 south find another route boy
It ain't hard for us to show you what we 'bout boy
Leave ya' dead with out a trace boy
I'm at 'cha funeral and I can't see ya' face boy
Ya brain is a terrible thing to waste boy
And ain't 'cha way to fast for ya' pace boy
It aint no thang for me to catch another case boy
Stay in ya place boy
Cause I'll have ya' ass erased boy

Verse 4: The Lost Tribe

When this shit hit the fat you gone feel it boy
You wanna fuck around with Faith I'ma seal it boy
I put a hole in ya' can't nobody heal it boy
We got this shit locked can't nobody steal it boy
I'm tryin' to stash somethin' close to a million boy
Is ya' with me lost tribe (yeah I feel ya boy)
This shit serious boy
I know ya curious boy
You wanna know why we livin luxurious boy
You hearin righteous funk boogie on this track here boy
You better straighten up and learn how to act here boy
Ain't no smack here boy
You get jack here boy
And when we finish you'll never come back here boy

Chorus:

So I suggest you don't be (fucking with me)
And if you don't wanna die (don't be fucking with me)
Don't wanna lose ya' life (don't be fucking with me)
And if you ain't slip-n-slide (don't be fucking with me)

Verse 5: JV & The Lost Tribe

Niggaz' like us we off glass hope ya heard me boy
My dogs deal dirty early in the morning boy
Ain't no yawning boy
I gotta keep a eye on what we earning boy
Keep them things turning boy
Who you referring boy
I'll burn ya' boy
Mind ya' business cause this here don't concern ya' boy
I'm trying to warn ya' boy
I'll toy turn ya' boy
Ya betta move the way Slip-N-Slide tell ya boy
Ya betta have me fo I Big Worm ya boy
I'll put some fire to that ass that'll learn ya boy

So I suggest you don't let me get 'cha boy
Guarantee a right cross gone split 'cha boy
Is this ya' boy
Then ya better come and get 'cha boy
Go to the morgue and enlist ya' boy
And if ya' violate my turf I'm gone get with 'cha boy
Man, ain't nobody gone miss ya boy
Last thing you wanna do is go and piss me boy
Get the picture boy
Fuck ho's get richer boy
Keep one eye open for the snitcher's boy
That bullet proof vest want protect ya' boy
I got a chopper in the trunk that a wet 'cha boy
You better pray and hope God don't forget 'cha boy
[..]
Fucking with me {until fade}
- Trick Daddy comes in after 4th fucking with me to say:

Don't fuck around and let 'em get 'cha boy

[Нет текста]

f/ JV, Money Mark, The Lost Tribe

[JV]
I'm sittin in tha cut, smokin on wha?
Hataz betta watch out for tha butt
I bring it to ya, wha? Bring it from ya head to ya wha?
Yea, I'm real wit it, nigga wha? You wanna playa hate nigga, wha?
Yea I'm Slip-n-Slide nigga wha? You betta give a fuck
Feel yo body penetratin' though ya gut
You betta come quick 'fo some niggaz come hatin', ya heard!!!
Before I get to burnin' ya, Slip-n-Slide turnin' ya

[Queen]
Queen cant be touched like hot potatoes
Every nigga I know keep a glock for hataz
Let me know wha he doin' wit tha rocks
Nigga, let me know I'll run up in tha spot
Get me 2 steaks, a drank and lock down
Aint no visualizin', like me now
Queen like drank, gotta stand my ground
Back up off me wit tha hands I clown
Slip-n-Slide on tha dump, if you wanna know wassup
If you know like I know bet not fuck

[Lost Tribe]
We got tha weed in tha tote, nigga wanna deed, here I dont
Nigga bring tha B's for tha pump
Tribe comin' clean like a bitch
We gon hit yo town for a lick
Nigga, we dont run we attack em
Then you can't splack em
Nigga outta line so we had to subtract em
We keep it real, while ya'll counterfeit
Throw a glass when I cant, then a sign ya get
We gon do ya like a pound we get
So you betta stay from round my shit
Slip-n-Slide put me on tha list

Miami, get on up!!! Atlanta, get on up!!!! Alabama, get on up!!!! 
Mississippi, get on up!!! Houston, get on up!!! Carolina, get on up!!!
New Orleans, get on up!!! Chicago, get on up!!!

[SS]
If you aint Slippin-n-Slide, how you ride?
You get yo head cracked open, when SS start collide
Whoa now, ay hold up boy, aint no thang
To get off tha chain and steal ya Jordans
Ya get a stain on ya brain from tha Southeast
Once ya getta dick and some nuts in ya mouth, eats nigga
Aint no click like this one
That'll make a jealous nigga wanna get a big gun
But it's too late cause we gon', my dawgs got tha AK, I got tha chrome
We finna chill at tha top like wha?
This game is a fat pussy finna get fucked, its like tha nigga

[Money Mark]
Slip-n-Slide til I die ass nigga
Pull a nigga hoe in tha fly ass Jetta
And fuck on anotha
Stay smoked out, Money Mark stay loched out
Bicardi wit tha chokes out, hollerin folks out
When I go by hittin this, Slip-n-Slide aint no forgettin' this
Eatin' on bitches cause I'm different
Pack Villangers, fuck hoes that's willin ta
Give up tha guts and let em smoke til they feel tha nut
Skeelo, bad bitches in Speedo's
And there will be no, where we go
See yo, doin what tha fuck we wanna do
Bust slugs and join ya crew, so wha you gon do?

[Chorus]

San Fran, get on up!!! Oakland, get on up!!!! Detroit, get on up!!!
Dallas, get on up!!! St. Louis, get on up!!!! Baltimore, get on up!!!
L.A. get on up!!! New York, get on up!!!

[Trick Daddy]
I'm into introducin' myself as tha greatest
No if, and buts or maybe's, unless you's a hata
So real niggaz gon die by days, while you hoe niggaz cry
Why you fussin niggaz lie?
Die by days, dont wanna hea about tha click you abound
You know a nigga wit a Benz like mines?
Same color, same yea like mines
Same model, same red like mines
Every hoe I'm fuckin, you don fucked, bruh
And every bet I call, you matched ya 'lil sucka
You got beef wit 'ol boy model
Well shave ya head and get gold teeth like 'ol boy
Peepin my D's galore, lovin these skeeza hoes
How do you suppose? New clothes to change ya hoe
You, fuck nigga, jus got to go, sucka

Louisville, get on up!!! Robin Hood, get on up!!!!
Liberty City, get on up!!! Carol City, get on up!!!
Opalocka, get on up!!! 'Lil Haiti, get on up!!!
Overtown, get on up!!! Richmond Heights, get on up!!!
Purrine, get on up!!!! Ohhh, get on up!!!!
Seminola, get on up!!! Scott Projects, get on up!!!
Wentwood, get on up!!! Pork and beans, get on up!!!
22 Ave, get on up!!! 32 Ave, get on up!!!

Wont cha get on up!!! Get on up!!! Get on up!!!
Wont cha get on up!!! Get on up!! Get on up!!!
Get on up!!!! Wont cha get on up!!!! Get on up!!!!
Get on up!!! Get on up!!! Wont cha get on up!!!

f/ Society

[Trick Daddy]
'Posed to be...
Land of the free
I don't see how
Count me in
Uh
America
Oh
America
Ha-ha-ha
America (America)
Sweet land of liberty y'all

I'm doing this one for the struggle
And every bad doin' brotha
Sista, daddy and mother
Who livin' in the gutter
You want
Better cars
And a better heart
Another start
Yo' own yard
And a place to park
You wanna
Trust 'em ??
And a better li' (life)
A bigger crib
And a home cooked meal
Every single night
He'll feel with you
Goin' through
But I coulda warned you
When its time to be a man
Do all you can
See other lands
And don't be livin' for the other man
Take time out and settle in
Be the better man
And close ? watch your friends
And then
You'll understand
A lil' better then
But on the other hand
You so god damn stubboran
And you be
Startin' shit
And ever since you made president
We ain't even seen you since
You need to (You need to)
Fill our schools
Rebuild our church and homes
Stop killin' my own kind
And leave my Earth alone
And stop tappin' my phone
And searchin' my brone
And keep your personal feelings home
When you bandin' my chrome
Do it for the
Weak and the strong
And to each his own
We do it for the main goal
So when all the heat is gone

(Chorus)
This game wasn't told to me (Told to me)
It was sold to me (Sold to me)
And we are never free (No!)
No way
Not in America (Not America)
Not America (Not in America uh-uh)
Our country 'tis of thee ('tis of thee)
Land of Liberty (Liberty)
But that'll never be (Never Be - NO!)
No way
Not in America (uh-uh Not in this America)
Not in America (No)

[Society]
You only got 2 bucks and give less than a fuck -- then you a nigga
Got a nice home and a Lexus truck -- you a nigga
World champions and you M.V.P -- you a nigga
4 degrees and a Ph.D -- still a nigga
You use your platinum ?? for ID's -- then you's a nigga
If your skin is brown just like me -- then you a nigga
Got a promotion and a FAT ass raise -- you still a nigga
You from the islands and your peoples wasn't slaves -- you a nigga
No matter how much your ass get paid -- you still a nigga
Shot by the cops at a traffic stop -- cause you a nigga
That's why I hold toast too
I sell bi-coastal
International
They inter-catching you with satellites in deep space
Now...Who invented niggaz in the first place?
And said America is the original birthplace?
Who gettin' 10 - 20 - Life on they first case?
My niggaz

(Chorus)

[Trick Daddy]
I'm doin' this one for the
Kids in the streets
Who ain't missed a beat
Do it for the
Deaf and the blind
And those who don't eat meat
Do it for all the
Children of the corn
And the unborn
Do it for the speedy trials
And all the lies you done sworn
How you gon' keep the man
Old Mr. Crooked ass preachin' man
When your whole congregation drivin' a brand new Benz
And writing brand new sins
Lyin' on a million men
And all my brothers, sisters, them daddys, and them doin' time in the Penn

f/ Co, Deuce Poppito, Trina

[Trick Daddy]
We gon' let the band deal with this
Ha ha, mmm-hmm
M-I-A Style, heh, old school
Uh hah..
Okay, shut up!

Chorus: Trick Daddy

Ah hah, okay, whassup? Shut up!
Ah hah, okay, whassup? Shut up!
Ah hah, okay, whassup? Shut up!
Ah hah, okay, whassup? Shut up!

[Trick Daddy]
Ridin round in my brand new ninety-nine, fo' do', Volvo
I got a pocket full of B's, 
cocoa weed and ain't got no place to go tho'
But all my Boca Boys they know though, that's fo' sho' doe
(Are those Bugle Boy jeans you're wearin?) 
Hell nah hoe, you know they Polo's
I been used again, accused again - this time 
been wrong to chop somethin done by one of my union friends
Soon as they seen the Benz, hatin season was in
Hell cause they figured me for not understandin they reason bein
Heh, but I'm the man for this
While y'all was doin fine I was doin time just, prayin for this
Locked up, makin plans for this
Without all that fancy shit, way too advanced for this
Just Polo socks, tanktops and drawers up under my pants and shit
Shut up!

Chorus: repeat 2X

[Trina]
Okay who's +Da Baddest Bitch+
I been real, been rich, been had this shit
Big Benz, big house and shit
That's right, okay I been down with Trick
Okay it make sense to me
Cause if your money ain't right you speakin French to me
Miss Trina don't play with me
Or you can say Miss Bigg, that's okay with me
You need a grand just to speak to me
Okay, are you sure you wanna sleep with me?
Okay, you better be fo' sho'
Cause I done left niggaz like you stuck befo'
Okay, you can ball with me
Since you got a hot knot spend it all with me
Okay, y'all know what's up
Okay, uh huh, I ride, shut up!

Chorus: Trick Daddy (4x)

[Co (of Tre +6)]
This goes out to my niggeroles 
and them pretty ass jazzy hoes, bitch what's up
C-O got a verse in the +Book of Thugs+
So when I come through bitch show me love
If you bout that flow, then raise it up
You got that funk, then blaze it up
I got two mo's of them phat hoes, 
late night and I ready to bust
Are you okay? Look like you got a lot to say
Okay, come widdit
Niggaz keep hidin your hoes, what you do that fo'
Me and Money Mark been done hit it
Been done split it - okay playboy? Fuck you say boy?
Don't even much bring your hoe 'round C
Niggaz y'all better quit fuckin with me
Shut up!

Chorus

[Duece Poppito (of 24 Karatz)]
Lay down, playboy what's up
What about the slugs in your head and your gut
What's up with the keys to the truck
Your own nigga say you got B's in the cut
What's up with the safe, what the combo
Open that shit nigga fuck all the convo-sation
What's up wit'cha Haitian
Probably got birds at the safehouse, waitin
What's up, where you store the D?
I ain't found shit but a quarter ki
Nigga ya better not be playin me
You gon' bleed to death, you understand me?
Whassup, are you ready to go?
You ready to tongue kiss with the blue fo'fo'?
What's up fuck nigga say somethin
Set your crime, we ready to spray somethin
Gun play, how I got the stripes
2-4-K turned out the lights
Gun play, how I got the stripes
2-4-K turned out the lights

f/ Kase, Mystic

Chorus:

I'll be yo' thug for life, my love will drive you crazy
You know nobody ain't gone (fuck) you like you need baby
Let's slip and slide together and go get this cheese baby
Hold me close and always be yo' thug for life
Keep it tight and always be yo' thug for life
Speak the truth and always be yo' thug for life
Break the bread and always be yo' thug for life

Verse 1: Kase

No, no, can't nobody get deep in the stomach like I do
And on top of that get 'cha high to
A nigga know that you liable
Jumping out a chevy on sky blue
Lot a nigga try to
Getting ready to kick it for me
To picky for me
Nigga's to sticky for me, stickin' with me
You got some nerve, you must think you pot superb
Nigga first tried to hide it, you shot the bird
K-Dog without a mouth full of filthy shit
Mouthing off nigga you would have been killed me bitch
Don't do shit but want a hundred dollar hair do
Come here, something I wanna tell you, what

Verse 2: Mystic

Don't, don't I have a heavy levi that a slide in dunk,
never find in the trunk
Where the weed at in the spot with the lump
I can't help but want to rub on them thighs and the hump
Shot her down in the zone, my love got 'cha high and it's on
I want leave ya' down alone or crying on the phone
Cause if ya' fed up then grab the chrome
Burning ya' home
I can't take it no mo' tell me what turns you on
Quick to yo' home, (???) (???) baby hold me tight


Chorus:

I'll be yo' thug for life, my love will drive you crazy
You know nobody ain't gone (fuck) you like you need baby
Let's slip and slide together and go get this cheese baby
Hold me close and always be yo' thug for life
Keep it tight and always be yo' thug for life
Speak the truth and always be yo' thug for life
Break the bread and always be yo' thug for life

Verse 3: Trick Daddy

Really will ya' roll with a thug
A young nigga in a big car, with a big gun,
ridin' round sittin' on dubs
Smoking on a fat blunt, baby was up
I heard you was lost in love and I don't see ya' much
But I know you done lost ya' touch
Ever need a paper stake
Ever wanna get away just call me up
Yeah, hit me on my 984-4040
Yeap, you know the rest
You know right where to go,
right where to come when you want the best
And I'm on this thug shit
Making money and drug shit
And I ain't with that bullshit
Cause got damn it I love this

You and me baby can get a little close and stop before your heat baby
Let me drop dem' draws and give you some of this weed baby
I really love the way you touch and suck on me baby
And the way you look when you run up in that 380
But do them haters they acting real shady
Broke or rich you still gone be with me baby
Break a nigga off bread when I need some cheese baby
Tell them niggaz I'm gone be yo' thug for life, my love will drive you crazy
You know nobody ain't gone (fuck) you like you need baby
Let's slip and slide together and go get this cheese baby
Hold me close and always be yo' thug for life
Keep it tight and always be yo' thug for life
Speak the truth and always be yo' thug for life

[Нет текста]

(Phone hang up)

Verse 1:

Now first off all ya'll ho's should know a nigga don't work fa' ya'll
My dogs don't give a fuck and we'll fuck you sluts on coconal
Bitch it ain't no need fo' no skeezy ho, cause bitch I feed 'cha ho
Young greasy ho, you sleezy ho, put a nigga don't need 'cha ho
Believe me ho, bitch you don't know nann nigga like me
How you gone play a nigga like me
Straighten that thug nigga like me
And I know I shouldn't say this,
but just take the dick and I slang this dick for days (ho)
Try to explain this shit away
I'm 24/7 like Triple A, so shut up

Chorus:

You walkin' like a ho, you talkin' like a ho
You dressin' like a ho, actin' messy like a ho
But bitch you lied to me, said you was shy to me
You out the closet now

So bitch you stand like a ho, make yo' plans like a ho
Wear yo' pants like a ho, she gone get mad like a ho
But bitch you lied to me, huh, said you was shy to me
You out the closet now

Verse 2:

Now that's a shame,
you done fell in love with another nigga in the game
You done tried to colt
And done flip the damn thing just to have his last name
Fucking with the last pimp
And he tellin' you the same shit he said last year
Same cheap shoes, same hair do's, and you still getting yo ass
You one of the slow ho's, and you got top of the line slow head
Like for the dick to be locked, cocked and shot all over yo' forehead
You a po' rat, and yo' pussy fat so show that (ho)
See every nasty bitch, love nasty shit and you know that (so ho)
Getting you pussy eat while ya' masturbate
that's a thing of the past
Doing bad, and you looking bad, so bitch don't even ask
Hoe shut up

Trina:
Nigga who the fuck you calling a ho
I ain't no motherfucking ho

Trick:
What up, what up, should a surprised me

Chorus:

You walkin' like a ho, you talkin' like a ho
You dressin' like a ho, actin' messy like a ho
But bitch you lied to me, said you was shy to me
You out the closet now

So bitch you stand like a ho, make yo' plans like a ho
Wear yo' pants like a ho, she gone get mad like a ho
But bitch you lied to me, said you was shy to me
You out the closet now

Verse 3:

Ain't no dick for free, ain't shit for free
Cause you don't do shit for me
And if you wanna stay with me you gotta break me off
and play with that click for me, or suck this dick for me
Get on top and do a split for me
Cum all over my shit for me, and make a spit for me bitch
See I don't need 'cha, I don't see ya'
And I really wouldn't wanna be ya'
You done tried me and done lied to me
So it's hard for me to believe ya'
And I don't need 'cha, calling me,
Talking 'bout come go to the mall with me
And I hate the shit you be starting see
Young silly bitch stop following me
I don't need 'cha

Chorus 1x

f/ Mystikal

(Trick Daddy inhaling)
Mystikal the joint on you nigga, hit this shit here

Mystikal:
I heard about you Trick brah, I know what ya'll smoke down yo' way
That bitch there smell dirty dirty, that bitch filthy

Trick:
It ain't gone kill you nigga

Mystikal:
Say dog I smoke that, I smoke chronic, you need to stop

Chorus:

I tryin' to stop smokin', smokin', smokin'
I tryin' to stop smokin', but naw I don't think so
I tryin' to stop smokin' (I'm tryin'), 
smokin' (I'm tryin'), smokin' (I'm tryin')
I tryin' to stop smokin', but naw I don't think so

Verse 1: (Trick Daddy)

This time I had to get physical,
so I went and got that nigga (MYSTIKAL)
He was like (hombre), I say I got pounds in this bitch to blow
Smoke like it's yo's, nigga we'll go get some mo'
I know this dread named Fred next do' and I'm hitting' his ho
Got damn it, I'm BLOWED
Behind the wheel and I can't even see the road
Done smoked fo' Joe's and got three mo' already rolled
I shouldn't drive my shit when I'm high, I might tear it up
Shit got my eyes all red up, nigga can't even hold they head up
Got my brain waves, elevating in a daze
But I ain't afraid cause I now see life from so many ways
Done smoked up so many j's
Been high for so many days
So many ??? broke down and we roll with brown weed for days, hay, hay

Chorus (repeat 4x)

I'm tryin' to stop smokin' (I'm tryin'), 
smokin' (I'm tryin'), smokin' (I'm tryin')
I'm tryin' to stop smokin', but naw I don't think so

(Train effects)

Verse 2: Mystikal

I be puffing like a choo-choo train
Nigga with the bonafied smokers on my team
I got the urge for light green,
the same way a fiend crave for ice cream
Smoke that, what track that, shit we ain't rollin' to be looking at
So much smoke becoming out the window
bitches in the next car saying daddy what that
We be smoking on the green,
give me fifty dollar ??? I be coming in the hood
But you ain't got to worry 'bout catching no motherfucking headache
under stress I be smoking on the good shit
No matter where I'm at, in a ride or at home in the studio writing
Hold ya breathe if you can't take it,
Cause if ya with me and I got motherfucker I'm lightin'
Not trying to say I'm no hype,
but after killing 'gars then I know I be tight
And I been smoking all motherfucking day
And I'm bout to smoking for the rest of the night
That's why my chest be hurting and I sleep so much
and I can't remember shit
I went to the emergency room already, I think I better quit

Chorus (repeat 4x)

Mystikal & Trick Daddy: (talking)

[Trick Daddy]
Let's see, what to do today?
Fuck that I'm goin to get my money

This one in a.. Thuggin memory
That thug nigga
Hollywood nigga
I did this one in that nigga name
Hollywood nigga, yall remember that mutha fuckin name

This bout that mutha fuckin money
NIGGA!!!!!!

To kill for cocaine and get a nigga killed
And a banana peel will get his whole hide flipped
He's bringin danger to the life of his home boy's
You can see the moon, but don't let him go alone boy
Bout my money, we goin to bump heads and it wont be long
That's why I got two choppers, one for the car, and one for the home
Got extra grip for when they hold on
Nextel, instead of these dial tones 
and quarter game for these old tapped ass cell phones
And new back bone for my new dread homes
You aint been outta jail long, but nigga you dead wrong
Bout my money, nigga you shouldn't a played wit it
You're goin to remember the day when this A.K hit ya.

Chorus:

Bout my money
That shit there aint nothin funny
Don't start duckin and runnin when it go to gunnin bout my money
And sonny, don't be stuntin and lookin funny
When I ask about my mutha fuckin money
That shit there aint nothin funny
Don't start duckin and runnin when it go to gunnin bout my money
And sonny, don't be stuntin and lookin funny
Have my mutha fuckin money

[Trick Daddy]
I read in the Book of Thugs, Chapter A.K Verse 47
And it tells me all thugs niggas go to heaven
But between the lines of verses 48 and 9
Is what ya thug nigga's, drug dealin and doin time
But verse 100, talks bout my money
Say's its full of blood so all memphis is funny
But nigga I don't want to hold your gold
I just want to free your soul 
And be found somewhere in public when all this shit unfolds
I done gave ya two bricks, and you aint gave me back shit
You runnin around in your new bubble lights 
When verse sit lookin sick
I aint here to hold ur sing, I just want my cream
and you can keep your little watch and ring that go bling bling

Chorus

[Trick Daddy]
Now all this huffin and puffin 
aint goin to get you young fuck nigga's nothin
But a shit bag and bullet holes through your bloody clothes
Out of all the nigga's you mutha fuckin know
I should have been the last nigga you want to muthafuckin know
I'll meet ya at your front door, and im bringin my calico
Nigga if u aint got my flow ur ass gotta go
We'll get you mammy and all and layin em down on the front room floor
Bout to do em all cuz I done have problems bout all this shit unfolden
Bout my money, I came at it, and your son ain't have it
Now this nigga I owe is goin to be the next nigga to go
I only got 20 G's, and I owe 'em 84
It ain't my muthafuckin fault, I'm short bout 64
This nigga aint goin to fuck me no more

(Trick talking)

f/ Twista

Could it be, you and me?
Could it be? (heh heh)
Could it be that I'm lost,
Gettin' soft and just fallin' in love(fallin' in love heh heh)
Could it be, you and me? (for my thugs y'all, nigga)

Trick Daddy:
Very sleek, gotta sneak, 
peepin', creepin',
Turn it up my homeboy,
Tellin' lies, to the guys, like nigga I'm goin' home boy.
Hittin' the back streets, wanna see my boo.
Gotta gift for two, for you ,
And something for your mama too.
Thinkin' ‘bout ya all day, in a thug way.
What a homie do with moms, with a moms and it can't wait.
Tongue tied, bitch ain't lie,
She in love to the lil' guy, and ya know,
Showin love to the lil' guy.
Suckin', fuckin', touchin' one another,
On top of the covers.
Let's get some air up in this mutha fucka. 
And she was callin' my name, and tellin' me thangs,
I can't explain.
So for ever we should always be together.(shit)
Sweet love, slow tongue kissin', and hugs.
I'm on a mission, wishin', kissin' that belly button.
She hum a song, that got me on.
And it won't be long before I reach the zone.
Move along, how ever long.
To eat the zone, pressure stones, when you reach that zone.
The bitch go home and leave them crooked bitches alone.
Make your kids, and your wife, and your whole life.
It'll be hard at first but hold tight.

Chorus:
Could it be that I'm lost,
Gettin' soft and just fallin' in love(am I fallin' in love, oh no)
Could it be that I'm lost,
Gettin' soft and just fallin' in love(am I fallin' in love, oh no)
Could it be that I'm lost,
Gettin' soft and just fallin' in love(am I fallin' in love, oh no)
Could it be that I'm lost,
Gettin' soft and just fallin' in love(am I fallin' in love, oh no)

Trick Daddy:
Could it be that I'm lost in myself,
Cought up in my self, tryin' to keep it real,
But all that wilin' is costin' myself.
Could it be I'm scared of the love.
Y'all want a turn to get so scandalous
This thug nigga just can't handle this.

Twista:
But the I neva met a girl that could role a philly like you
You could see I like you, when I kick my flow who feel it like you.
You was lookin' so sexy when you got out yo' white,
Checkin' out yo' thigh.
The dreams of a fine girl, I see out my eye,
She about yo' size.
Don't really seem like the type that'll really mutha fuck with drama,
So nigga done just put up with a little trauma, so it's me she seem to hona.
These other hoes don't get showed lately, me and her been hangin'.
Smokin', drankin', keepin' her shit tight, 
swangin' all in a midnight bangin',
Never trippin', but I'm tippin', or just kickin' it with my dawgs.
We ball with them niggas tellin' me my nose been open,
Ever since I hit them drawls.
I tell them I'm still a pimp, 
I don't really want ya but I just pretend.
Cuz I damn near kick it with you the same way I be trippin' out with them.
Trick Daddy won't rat on me, he told me, “Twista, 
don't kick it how we get what, long as you handle your business, mista”.
So I sit back and say, “fuck it” pick up the phone and call my bitch up
Started thankin', is it all in the bud or am I fallin' in love.
(fallin' in love, fallin' in love, fallin' in love,
fallin' in love, fallin' in love, fallin' in love, 
fallin' in love, fallin' in love,)

Trick Daddy:
(Could it be, you and me, you and me, could it be, 
you and me, this that thug shit, what, say it.)

Chorus:
Could it be that I'm lost,
Gettin' soft and just fallin' in love(am I fallin' in love, oh no)
Could it be that I'm lost,
Gettin' soft and just fallin' in love(am I fallin' in love, oh no)
Could it be that I'm lost,
Gettin' soft and just fallin' in love(am I fallin' in love, oh no)
Could it be that I'm lost,

f/ Money Mark of Tre+6

Verse 1: Money Mark

It's hard for a nigga just to breathe in the streets
Let alone trying to make cheese in the streets
Nigga's bleeding in the streets
So I don't go, unless I'm chillin' on the low with my middle finger up
And I'm ridin' for Buddy Roe
Cause he jammed in it
My dog got slammed in it
I even lost Bam in it, wait a damn minute
This the street life, cracker think a nigga fadeless
Cause I'm tryin' to make it out the matrix, fuck this nigga
Nigga's life for dope and nigga's die for dope
And nigga's die cause they live on dope
And I remember when I told 'cha Roe
I would've shed blood for ya'
A nigga still got much love for ya'
Nigga, believe that, and yeah Money Mark mean that
Until the day a nigga lean back
This how a nigga show you real love
A dedication to them real thugs
Cause we the last one's livin'

Chorus: (repeat 2x) Trick Daddy

All I need to get on is a few good men with big guns
We can break Buddy Roe out the pin
And then it's thug life again nigga, thug life nigga, huh

Verse 2: Trick Daddy

I'm 'bout a G short, not bees
One of my (???) got caught with three ki's
And he ain't taking no pleas
Ride or die, holla thug life
I know the feeling, I know exactly what it look like
Buddy Roe you better hold on
Cause when the crackers catch ya' they'll hide 'cha ass for so long
And they'll ship ya' ass so far
They'll probably (???) turn round duce things in yo' car
Hell, I rather the go to war with 'em
They got guns but my guns skreeting mo' with 'em
Bullets that explode in 'em
Huh, and I don't see no vest
But cha'll know the rest
That rapid fire hit 'em right in the chest
His mammy gotta right 'em a check
For the rose for the dead man
Huh, you understand, nigga it's thug life again

Chorus: repeat 4x

All I need to get on is a few good men with big guns
Just to break Buddy Roe out the pin
And then it's thug life again nigga, thug life nigga, huh

Trick Daddy talking:
Thug life nigga fuck nigga's die in thug life
Fuck nigga's ain't gone never be shit, ain't gone never succeed
Fuck nigga's ain't gone never have no money
Cause them real nigga's can take it
Fuck nigga's can keep calling the police
You fuck nigga's can keep crossing ya'll (???) on a nigga
This motherfucking thug life you pussy ass cunt 
dick sucking, dick licking ass,
dick in the bootie, fuck flauging ass nigga, 
ya'll nigga's know who ya'll is
Fuck ya, one time, for them motherfucking killers
One time for the dope dealers
One time for any motherfucker in America, who 'bout some war
'Bout some legal getting money shit, tax free biiitch!!!

(Chorus)
I'm a fuck around and kill yo ass
I'm a fuck around and kill yo ass
Fuck around and kill yo ass (say what)
I'm a fuck around and kill yo ass

[Trick Daddy]
I'm having a supper with some lonely motherfucker
Some little boney motherfucker
You killed my homie motherfucker
So what a real nigga 'posed to do
Get ghost and kill every bitch close to you
And you probley gone kill me if I ain't careful
Probley gone damn near me if I ain't careful
Now you fucking with the wrong nigga
I'll follow you home nigga, ready to pull the motherfucking trigger
Cause I ain't fucking with nobody, owe nobody
Need nobody but my shottie
See all my ex-friends was ex-cons, most of them dead and gone
Therefore I'm ridding for 'em
I'm putting holes in you cocksucker
I'm closing shop on your block with this glock sucker
Won't be no serving on this corner
Won't be no hanging, swanging, swerving on this corner
I gives a fuck about your homie
You can play crazy if ya want to, but ya pussy when I get up on ya
But when these blades go to chopping, niggas gone be dropping
And vertebras going to be rocking
And I'm a..

(Chorus)

[Trick Daddy]
I gives a fuck that you getting do
I gives a fuck bout your hoe, gives a fuck bout who she know
Ain't no joking in my game, don't get chained, 
and slanged about my cocaine
I know some niggas, who want to smoke, 
He want some hotter green and a quarter head for that coke
Won't be no jacking while I'm stacking
Won't be no slapping, no laughing, or no motherfucking macking
Just me and my workers in a circle, 
And ain't nobody and hiding 'round cause if they is I got to hurt ya
And if it's worth it we'll dirt ya, 
I know ya strapped so I'm wait for I search ya
I know ya scared, and you gonna get it, and I can feel yo ass
Put this thing inside your head and I'm kill yo ass

f/ Buddy Roe

[Buddy Roe]
Now I gotta let you have it
Rappin' fire from my automatic
Now I gotta let you have it
Rappin' fire from my automatic

[Trick Daddy]
I just might have to toss this nine
Across your mind
Across that line
I'm running straight up in your mammy's house by mine
Puttin' this fire up in this old bitch mouth by mine
And openin' fire
And I ain't swearing no niggas
Give the deed up until four niggas
Ain't sympathizing with you hoe niggas
I'm just realizing what this thug shit for nigga
You in the middle of a war nigga
Now I gotta let you have it
The whole clip
Fucking up the whole trip
Now you fucking with the boogie man
This shit deeper than Nino Brown
And I ain't see no clown 
Nigga nigga nigga

[Buddy Roe]
Now I gotta let you have it
Rappin' fire from my automatic
Now I gotta let you have it
Rappin' fire from my automatic

[Trick Daddy]
I got some niggas that'll bump with you
Play with your kids and eat lunch with you
Then fuck around and kill your ass
I close shop 
With 2 shots from a far away glock
Then leave you dead to rot
In a empty lot
And this thug shit simply not
To be taken light
Well y'all fake less I'm taken life
Then I'm taking off
To the old hood
To check on a old girl
To make sure it's still all good
Then it's back to the streets
To finish this beef
Looking for them same niggas that's looking for me
And about three blocks
>From where they set up shop
Sell weed and lay some rocks
They got these old cops
Working they're spots
And young niggas on the roof with red dots
When me and my clique scrap and we scared not

[Buddy Roe]
Now I gotta let you have it
Rappin' fire from my automatic

[Buddy Roe]
I'm paranoid cause I'm hearing things
Time served
Only out a few months, associated with birds
They want to pop it, I got bad nerves
Peep
Mini-14 on the front seat
You want to be there for your kids, nigga play with it
His Grams missing, who did it, I'ma deal with it
So fuck I care about the shorty
Cause nigga you been known
Skip town
With my pound
With my dudes 'round
Now nigga how you playin', I done counted that
You wanted work, all you had to do is fucking ask
My cuban friend
Want his ends
Instead of you flipping them divedends
Making millions
Popping then
Silly rabbit
You done started static
Now I gotta let you have it
Rapping fire from my automatic
You left me stuck
And so you outta luck
Cause you done fucked my credit up
ASHES TO ASHES, DUST TO DUST
Nigga what

[Buddy Roe]
Now I gotta let you have it
Rappin' fire from my automatic
Now I gotta let you have it
Rappin' fire from my automatic
Now I gotta let you have it
Rappin' fire from my automatic
Now I gotta let you have it

f/ Buddy Roe

Beep!

Trick Daddy
I figure you'se a ho but you can't help it
'Cause being raised by a ho is kinda hectic
Old material bitch 
Gold-digging for them tender dicks
A real nigga never give you shit Biotch
Born and raised in the motherfucking projects ho
Getting money by at the pak Jam, by the back door
Wearing them shorts up your ass with a tube top
Letting niggas stick they fingers all in the cock
Pussy all big and wet, looking good and shit
Smelling like dead fish
And every week it's the same shit you and that lil shit
And every time I see you, you got to have dick
You wants mo' respect
You gets no respect
And all you want is some hardcore sex
1, 2, 3, yes you know
4, 5, 6, 7 niggas in your hole
Back-to-back from the back, head and all
Doo-doo brown and licked his hairy ass balls
In the streets late-night me, you, and all my boys
What I'm thinking 'bout honey bun (honey bun)
You got the nigga running up in you
Shake it like "Naww, I'm not trying to do you"
No good freak, is the same but I love you
I'm off in you skin-deep motherfucker let's do it again sometimes you like that, huh?
The next nut going out for your grandma


You'se a ho but you can't help it 'cause you don't know it
I figure you'se a hoe but you can't help it, 'cause you don't know it
Oh, Oh, Ho
You'se a hoe but you can't help it, 'cause you don't know it



Buddy Roe
Stupid bitch you done dropped out of high school 
But who's the fool?
You'se a prime example
You met a nigga named Mike 
at the nice Lexus lane looking like grands for the night
Times are hard, you scared, your rent is due
It aint no limit to the shit you do
You making records in the studio
Telling me it aint who you know it's who you blow
Sheit,
I'll hit you up for a gangbang
Have you doing strange thangs for some small change
Keeping it real
Fucking with the wrong pops
Longshoreman on the dock
Head, booty and cock
You get what he got
Shooting tech to his whole cat
Took him home let him hit you from the back
With tax because it's like that

I figure you'se a Ho Ho Ho

You can't trust
A bitch with a big butt
You get the guts, then tell that ho to keep in touch
Jimmy-up when I bust her
Fucked her
HIV can't trust her
I got too much to lose
Cash rules
Protect the family jewels
Yeah,
And I ain't going out like Easy
Believe me
A nigga disease free

Chorus

Trick Daddy
Had another baby, blame it on the same nigga
Reason being is seeing that he's a dope dealin
Bitch, you'se a fiend you want dick
You wan't much flow,
But I can't pay you ho
You dissed Trick, 
And now you on the hitlist
I dogged you out, and now you getting dick shit
I told my boys 
That you make much noise
And you like getting off with those sex toys
A bunch of high school hos at the Goom-Bay*
They got they drawers in they hands like it's okay
They got all the niggas jockin 'cause they cock fat
The young hoes turning heads 'cause they got back
Now, they finer than them hos off TV
But, they fucking every nigga on fifteenth
So I figgaaaaaaa 
You'se a Ho Ho Ho

Chorus

Ho Ho Ho

Chorus with variation untill the end

[Нет текста]