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Liar liar, pants on fire, you're not gangsta, you're not street |
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You just make yourself sound gangsta when you're rapping on the beat |
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You ain't got yourself in no life-threatening situations yet |
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You're no dealer, you're not balling, you just get yourself in debt |
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You're a fan of hip hop, wanking when you hear them rappers talk |
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Love to sit and listen but we know that you don't walk the walk |
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What's with all the fake aggression, |
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I can see that it's not true |
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I know killers, |
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I know gangsters, and they never heard of you |
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You ain't robbed nobody, shanked nobody, you ain't bust no gun |
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You ain't seen no ghetto action, who do you think you fooling, son? |
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You should pull your trousers up, you know it ain't your type of look |
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You're no playa, you're no pimp, |
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I think that you should read a book |
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And seckle, find yourself a pretty girl and settle |
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You know that if it's on that you ain't drawing for no metal |
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I know them rap songs got you thinking you're some kind of g |
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Well if that's the case, then que sara and what will be will be [Hook:] |
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Where's the |
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G's? Where's the stars? |
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Where's the whips? |
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Where's the cars? |
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Where's that cribs? |
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And where's the yards? |
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Cause all |
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I see is hype |
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Where's the dough? |
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Where's the cash? |
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Where's the hoes? |
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Where's the gash? |
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Where's the blicks? |
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And where's the mash? |
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Cause all |
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I see is hype |
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Too many moots on the |
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TV How many real crooks on the |
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TV? All I hear is dead hooks on the |
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TV Being real these days ain't easy |
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Too many moots on the |
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TV How many real crooks on the |
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TV? All I see is bare poop on the |
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TV Being real these days ain't easy [Verse 2: Bun B] |
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Well it's big |
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Bun B and |
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I'm back again, talking that shit on the track again |
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Too many mother****ers be lying about selling, buying and trafficking |
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I'm like really though what's happening, you boys talk about that crack again? |
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Cause we don't believe you, need more people, y'all might as well just pack it in |
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Show me the paper you're stacking in, show me the blocks you got on hold |
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Show me your workers, show me your shooters, lemme see the neighborhood you control |
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Lemme see if you a boss, and if mother****ers is scared of you |
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And if somebody trying to take your shit, let me see what you prepared to do |
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Are you ready to go to war? |
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Are you ready to shoot to kill? |
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Are you really gon' man-up or bitch-up? |
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Just tell the truth for real |
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Are you ready to take a life, walk up to 'em and squeeze the trigger |
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I don't think so cause you ain't built like that, so just be easy, nigga |
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Cause you know you ain't 'bout no drama and you know that you really don't want it |
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So stay the **** out of the way when them trill-ass niggas is on it |
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Dizzee Ras and |
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UGK, you know we stay connected |
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Trill recognize trill, so just respect it and check it |
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And tell me [Hook] [Verse 3: Pimp C] |
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Where the |
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Benz and where the hoes? |
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Candy niggas with candy clothes |
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Where the cocaine? |
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Where the o's? |
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Where the |
|
SoundScan, where the shows? |
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You's a pimp, bitch, where the track? |
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Where the diamonds and where the |
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Lac You say that you that you in hot pursuit |
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But I ain't never seen you with a prostitute |
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I got everything |
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I say Don't believe me, ask |
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Lil' J On the |
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West ask Ice- |
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T **** good but my dick ain't free |
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So hood I used to whip the d |
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Patron and wood when |
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I'm in the |
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B Sweet Jones, |
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Tony Snow, |
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Percy Mack, |
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Pimp C Bitch, |
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I got a bunch of names |
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Getting head in the |
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H.O.V. lane |
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Getting red, |
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I let my nuts hang |
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Wear a lot of red but it ain't no gang |
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Chased by the feds but it ain't no thang |
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I guess they think |
|
I still sell cocaine 92 carrots in my chain |
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Jumping out a red-candy thing |
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Never snitch, never tell, get caught up, go back to jail |
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Before I tell them hoes shit, **** the law, they can eat my dick |
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The main niggas that pop the trunk |
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Go to the pen and get with them punks |
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Then come home trying to act tough |
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When they was up there getting ****ed in the butt [Hook] |
