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(feat. Dona , Miz) |
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[Dona] |
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Yo, honest living gets no respect |
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Get money on the streets, niggaz show your love |
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Fast cars, gold chains, son, doing his thing |
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I'm doing my thing, together we bring |
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That hard street shit, niggaz been waiting weeks to get |
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Best of both words, Chinese and Sunnydale |
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Lobster and crystal, the nigga fuck with me |
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Cuz I keep its real, and I'm from the Ville |
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XXL wanna put me on the cover, enemies |
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Undercover, wanna take a nigga under |
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Fuck these niggaz talkin' bout how they discovered |
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Mad at ya girl, cuz I ain't fuck ya |
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Powder blue prada's, Dona, the don dada |
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It get's not hotter, top shotters |
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Blocka, I got this whole game in a smash |
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You couldn't do a song with me, cuz all your shit is trash |
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[Miz] |
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Look at me now, Mega, I'm trynna ice the crown |
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Blow shots at your crew, when ya'll actin' wild |
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The streets be us, and dog, you can't fuck with us |
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Real niggaz been shackled on the back of the bus |
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Been blowin' mad niggaz, for talkin' like they be tough |
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So please don't fuck with us, niggaz will scuff you up |
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Got the goon squad, postin' up in the rear |
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Ready to start something, pop about two in ya ear |
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You hear? Get it clear, never fuck with the man |
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Cuz if you, talk to the man, you'll be layin' in sand |
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You hear? Never scared, it's the block in here |
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106 and cardin', that's how we startin' this here |
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Rest in peace, Fly Ty, wish my nigga was here |
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Not in the mental, the physical, standin' right there |
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Talk to me ya'll, Legal Hustle that's how we do |
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What, ho.. |
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[Cormega] |
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In the street I'm known, for heat I hold |
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My road dogs, Moe Dog and Bebo's home |
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Niggaz be fightin' over syrup, by my kilo sold |
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Now I'm a motherfuckin' Legal Hustle, C.E.O |
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I brought the pain, it hurt y'all to see me blow |
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Like the hurricane, you thought it was a game |
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Til the hummer came, you numb like, novacaine |
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Scuff like purple haze, nigga, know your place |
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I don't wanna blow your brains |
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Will leave dead or like something in a produce lane |
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There's no use mayne, you know you lame |
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Your re-up is weak, my peeps told you wait |
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You didn't like the Realness, you know you fake |
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My success got you vexed, that know you hate |
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The fact I'm eatin' like my peoples do in soul food plates |
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Uh, Don P, shit, we go through cases |
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And, we got lawyers, that blow through cases |
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I will walk through your projects with no shoe laces |
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And laugh at them niggaz with them broke school faces |
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What, you can't fuck with my team, the Legal Hustle regime |
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We the fucking machine, nigga, fuckin' with me |
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Get love in the street, cuz we was huggin' to eat |
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Now we chillin', pullin' up in them fleece |
