You Niggas Wanna Be Me And Yea Homie Listen To My Cd And Roll Ya Eyes Every Time Ya See Me I used To fuck wit B.g I gotta White House Dat AInt In D
call me I can think of some nouns Mr. Hoe Hopper, trick knocker, free city My G's getting depp like P. Diddy I'm feelin' like B round looking for my
) Bia-bia-bia-b-b-biatch! (biatch) Bia-bia-bia-biatch! (biatch) Bia-bia-bia-b-b-biatch! (biatch) Bia-bia-bia-biatch! (biatch) [Bun B] Say, I'm all about
out, mathematics, paper rappamatics established Long money, way before I signed for cabbage Chorus [E-40] Get your marbles main, get your paper ... glorify your paper
where my buck niggas at? Where my buck niggas at? Where they at, where they at, where they at? Where my bitches at? All my hard core niggas, what you wanna do? My
mutha fucka 9-Scrillion, bout ta make a million bucks (E-40!, E-40 man!) Ya Capable (B-Legit!) Eh, here ye here ye (B-Legit!) All the pimps, playas
you think I appear to be fucked up, mentally endangered I can't stay away from a razor, I just want my face in a paper I wish a nigga had a grenade
Welcome To My Car Pool Yellow Lam G Shit She Double O-D Shit Five Time Foul Niggas Need To Stop Reaching Curren$y (Hook): It Was My Only Wish To Rise It Was My
love is so digital Spell my name, B O B B Y B O B B Y, Bobby, repeat after me B, B, O, O, B, B, B, B, Y, Y D, D, I, I, G, G, I, I, T, T, A, A, L, L
that I'm on my Deen Down to get down anytime by any means Known to be OT, reppin on any scene And all about the paper, we stackin up plenty green From my
in my clothes chain on my neck, rocks up on my wrist dirt up in my piss, gotta partna named Chris movin keys, lemme chop em down in my safe I gotta key
Alright, alright It's Bun B and Jazze Phizzle, Phizzle It's Bun B and Phizzle, Phizzle, Phizzle It's Bun B and Jazze Phizzle, Phizzle Bun B, UGK sho
my seeds Westside 9th street, I came up amongst the G's Crack game in 88, it took over shit I was there I stood on southern through texas and got my share And my nina on my
that you know we bout that I said we bout that Yeah u know we bout that [Bun B] Thats right my mind is on my money and my fingers on a fat knot eyes
'bout to pass, who's receivin? I'm throwin, I'm throwed on, the mic I explode Slow all that bangin mayne just like my load Don't test me or stress me
Em [x2] [Bun B:] Now If You Come To This T.E.X. Betta Show Some Love Cause Homey You Don't Wanna See Me Plex We Be Bout Dat Paper And Ain't No Shortstop In My
fresh jus like mannie bout to go hit my spot in miami now that i won im puttin my grammy on the grill and hood of my candy she talkin bout can we can
make They talk behind my back but they won't say it to my face Hoe, say it to my face, yeah, say it to my face, yeah They talk behind my back but they