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(Intro) |
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Man, niggas be gettin' tha wrong impression of these niggas down here in Cashville |
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They thank it's country musik mayne, mothaf**kas got money mayne! |
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Niggas is killin', niggas is slangin' they shit.. |
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Niggas is livin, they gettin' it how they live |
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I represented it nigga (Wha.. F**k these niggas) |
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(Verse 1 - Young Buck) |
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I'ma born villain, ghetto hero to lil' children |
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I'm still livin', still robbin' niggas like gimicks |
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White folks feel dat I belong in prison |
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We got 10 killings and still can't get in |
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I stay un-identified, but niggas betta listin |
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I'm on a mission, just me and my ammunition |
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When 2 clips take together, bust and dip 'em |
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I know my nigga D-Tay, yeah he gon' stick 'em (Wha, Wha?!) |
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Guerilla, under-aged killa like myself |
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Fearin' nothin', no head bussin' not even bein' dead |
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Murda Squad is here, you smell tha fury from tha gun smoke |
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Empty my weapon and then it's covered by a trench coat |
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And when tha smoke clears, guess wha? - I'm still here |
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Late in the dark, prepared fo' tha next year |
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Look wha The Game created, a 6 foot murda man, hair braided un-educated |
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(Chorus - Buck w/ D-Tay ad-libin') |
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See we thugged out, busy bobbin' wit tha snub nose out |
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'Cause dese niggas 'bout drama where I'm from - Cashville! (Wha, Wha?) |
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Come down here I betchu'll say dat's real, and niggas will kill |
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'Cause we thugged out, dat why niggas busy bobbin' wit tha snub nose out |
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'Cause dese niggas 'bout drama where I'm from - Cashville! (Wha, Wha?) |
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Come down here I betchu'll say dat's real, and niggas will kill |
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(Verse 2 - Young Buck) |
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The average thug nigga somehow drug dealin' |
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Wether he slang packs or gats, it's all 'bout skrilla |
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We un-load straps, and shootcha down like Reggie Miller |
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While othas take time to get paid, I like it quicka |
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And do it sober no weed or sizzle licka |
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Know wha I mean? It's f**kin' teams of Mob bigga |
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Respect game and game don't respect you |
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Gon' be out here nigga, you got a nine? Get a Tec too! |
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Bitches will check you, or make ya thank a nigga ain't? |
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Plus you got bank too, a nigga waitin' fo' ya rank, off tha dank |
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Butchu don't feel like you loafin' |
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Crystal, you drank - and thank a nigga ain't scopin' |
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Yeah, you tell world you work hard fo' these tokens |
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Get a f**kin' strap and keep ya wallet wide open |
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My nigga look, life means nothin' when ya positive bound |
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Been listin when ya body goin' deep in tha ground |
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(Chorus) |
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(Verse 3 - Young Buck) |
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What does my phuture behold, will I have suttin' to fold |
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Tell tha world bout these murdas, and hope they go gold |
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I'm gettin' known, so wha happens needs to happen here qwick |
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6 tryin' and 6 dyin', I'm gettin tired of this shit |
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Load clips, cock it back, ain't no time fo' me to relax |
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Here they come, can't run - so I gotta shoot back |
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why sit and sell' crack, when Im grabin' tha gats |
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Infra-red where you lay ya head, snatch you and stacks |
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If you wrong, but a nigga gotta eat ya hurrd? |
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F**k handcuffin' ya bitch, ya betta guard ya byrd |
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This shit hard to earn, so Im'a get it how I can |
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Hop in outta mini-van, knownin' this tha mini mayn |
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Don't let me see tha gat when I'm askin' tha Lord |
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Till I found myself broke, back to swingin' my sword |
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Soulja when I was hooked to my ambellical cord |
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If I'm wrong sell backwards dat's why I'm here fo' |
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(Chorus) |
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(Outro - Buck talkin' w/ D-Tay ad-libin') |
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Nigga, we thugged out (Thugged out!) |
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Nigga! D-Tay (And Young Buck) |
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Every time you see us, we thugged out! |
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All tha way wit it, Hell to tha back |
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Infra-red on our straps |
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Whatchu wann' do nigga? (Whatchu wann' do?) |
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Whatchu gon' do nigga? (What, What, What, Huh?) |
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We thugged out |
