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(Eightball we doin this shit once again |
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For you fake ass niggaz lay it the fuck down BEYITCH) |
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[Intro/Chorus:] |
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Lay it down, lay it down |
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You hoes lay it down |
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Lay it down, lay it down |
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You hoes lay it down |
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[Verse 1: Thorough] |
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He's got his head tilted back on his face is a frown |
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Who's that nigga there it's Thorough bitch |
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So don't you clown, the sound and style, of Swisher after Swisher |
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Oh how I wish ya would step so I could hit ya |
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With wicked shit slick and swift |
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As I slaughter quick, oughta flip with fluents |
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To show you how we be doin in the Suave House federation; that is cat |
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You don't know how it's comin cause you don't where it's at |
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A mack of all trades, low cut, tight fade |
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We all get paid, so gets sprayed, so buster behave |
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My flavor's deep, please peep, I ain't soft |
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I represent at all cost and always got my niner out |
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So eeease back cause you marks can't hang with me |
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I got to much game in me, killin ain't no thang to me |
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Give a nut check, and I see you outta place |
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And I say that to say you're a BITCH, and you ain't got what it takes |
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To stop the funk mutha from freelance jackin |
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Brushes up on yo skills, cause fool I ain't lackin |
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With my hands on my dick, my click is thick so don't clown |
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Bitches we ain't playin you hoes lay it down |
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[Chorus x2] |
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[Verse 2: Eightball] |
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It's Sunday morning, I'm stil yawnin from the night before |
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So much sess in my chest from the Swishers I smoke |
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OH NO! Who is this hoe in the bed with me? |
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I remember the pussy but I don't remember her name G |
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Grab me Swisher cut it up and fill it with weed, hit that hoe |
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In the head, and tell her get out of my bed you damn freak |
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Hopped into the shower for an hour, it was hot as hell |
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Got dressed and ran a gold comb through my curls |
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Walkin out of the house slow, tellin that hoe come on let's go |
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First I crack up the music then, hit the switch on my six-four |
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Candy coated paint, got the bitches at the bus stop sick |
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But at the same time on my dick, thick |
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Beat a bitch quick I'm sick, full of Swishers and malt liquor |
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I'm a killa on them sticks, aggivated hallucinatin |
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Tryin to let go of my frustration |
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But some my luck, nigga gonna be a med patient |
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I gotta nine uzi AK, but that shit don't really matter |
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Cause if I gotta I will rat-a-tat-a |
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To splatter the guts of nigga with no nuts |
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And if you step to Suave you will have to lay it down |
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[Chorus x2] |
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[Verse 3: Crime Boss] |
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Here comes the spy, that fry, get high, and get head rushed |
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The number one gangsta you can't touch or bust |
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So steppin is the wrong that you gots to come against me |
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You best to do a driveby and be prayin that you hit me |
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Cause nigga if you miss me I'm a have to draw my gat |
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And take yo ass way back, cause way back way back in the days |
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I used to beat dope fiends down just get paid |
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Live my life as a hustler, sellin drugs was my only J |
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My moms was a trick hoe I had nowhere to stay |
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And nigga that's fucked all my homies are loners |
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I've been on this for ten years so I'm known on corners |
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With bitches and prostitutes, pimps and killa thugs |
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Five-oh harrassin me, so Crime Boss is feelin slugs |
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A good guy gone bad, devious fuckin kid |
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Victim of?, shit that my momma did |
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These dope beats comin up, I'm servin those clucker bitches |
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My beeper still goin off, I'm thinkin of addin riches |
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For dollars and sense, see I gotta have it goin on, |
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Or be trapped in this hole for too motherfuckin long |
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IT'S ON! |
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[Verse 4: MJG] |
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Thirty buster in yard talkin shit bout a bitch |
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Claimin to be that bitch's family but they look like dirty tricks |
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Talkin about why did I meet that hoe, fuck the hoe |
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Charge the hoe, break the hoe, bust her inside her shit and go |
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Suckers how the fuck you think that MJG was gonna slip |
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On the only reason you mad cause you sister couldn't pussy whip |
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A back breakin, check takin, pimp nigga constantly makin |
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Money off you and your lady, nigga I ain't tradin |
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Why don't you niggaz understand I'm the pimp she's the hoe |
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Now that I told you now you know, break that chain and let her go |
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Back on the track shake that ass, make my money |
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Make it fast, get yo head swoll bringin me checks bitch bring me cash |
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Drop yo panties, to let you start |
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To open your mouth, slurp and slob |
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On this dick you, he's the trick you's a bitch, do ya job |
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When you through, get up and go, get the cheese, hit the door |
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Catch a cab, back to the lab, bring my motherfuckin money hoe |
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Don't you ever front me with a lame lie about my bank |
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Oh shit, look out bitch, dump a bitch catch a plane |
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Yeah hoe now you know, I'm a pimp, and I'm a clown all upside yo head |
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Yeah bitch, I'm a lay it down |
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[Chorus x2] |
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