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6 Figure
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B.G.
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1
B.G.
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Miscellaneous
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6 Figure
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[B.G.]
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It's me, the B.G., doin' my thang
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Lettin' 'em hang, I represent bangity-bang
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I gettin' off into shit you can not handle
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I'm settin' it off in this bitch, thinkin' of scandals
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'Bout my paper, 5 figures and up with the red beam
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Dealers and thugs on my team with many 14's
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Hittin' your home up, hittin' at everything movin'
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Lookin' and losin', startin' chaos and confusion
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I'm bruisin' your whole family, dress 'em up in dark colors
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Then come to your funeral in two Hummers
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That's me, Baby Gangsta, spark in the day
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Come out the funeral home, you get hit at walkin' away
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I'm in to grow, legend with rights, I don't been enticed
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To greab the K and let it spray, put an end to a nigga life
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My nigga TD gettin' high wit' me
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Out that 13, straped up he ride or die wit' me
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I was in the 'Nolia, lookin' for that killa guerilla
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I know my nigga gangsta got it on wild willa
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Uptown consist of drug dealers, and thugs
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For the junkies got no love
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It's like this, play pussy you catch a slug
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Drug though the mud, once it's dead it's done
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Hand on my gun cause I don't give a muthafuck
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I'm a head buh-uh-busta, I never truh-uh-trust a bitch
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Make sure I gotta silent 4-5, if this nigga snitch
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Get me in the fix, and I can't snitch out the mix
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Just gimme tree lives, double them so I got six
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Ain't that some shit, wanna see me assed outta luck
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Bet I ain't trippin', cause I don't give a muthatfuck
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[Lil' Wayne]
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I be catchin' a nigga corner, rippin' through a nigga street
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Hot Boys they ride with me, like a preist, five deep
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Windows tinted, clips extened, drum lettin'
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Bustin' lead ', real ', Hot Boy$ don't forget it
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Leave every porch wet ', brains all over the step '
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Disrespectin' the whole neighborhood block wettin'
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Step in, the section, uh-of the Hot Boy$
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Full of the 'dro, and ride and chop you whole spot boy
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Better watch boy, where you be at cause I'm a hit at, three flat
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You want beef, I'ma beef at, make it hot, I'ma crease that
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Camoflauge to the 'Boks, pop off clips in the glocks
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Make sure all choppers cocked, start a quake, shake the whole block
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Take the tip of the jo, kick down the front door
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Run from front to back bustin', Terius cut his wife throat
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I'ma play it how it go, hold a black connect sho'
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We went to school for this, we spend bins like a pro
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Go chill with the Joe, Say wodie let's get loaded
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Blow a pound with my round, 50 shot'll get me toted
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I'ma wet your bin, hit your house, unlock ten
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Boy you can't win I let chopper bullets spin
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[Turk]
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Don't fuck with bitch niggaz, 226 bout the real
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Them niggaz who paper chase, go in the dark and pack that steal
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You ain't hear about the young thugs,
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The Hot Boys, that's who the are
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Run that shit blow for blow, hoes be bout catchin' that nut
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Nigga don't think cause we young, we ain't ridin' or dyin' too
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Down with black connection to the finish, we bout killin' niggaz too
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Spend your bin quickly, make you suffer, die slowly
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You hit enough, I'm about to down, play the scenery
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Big ol' Expedition's, do some dirt in it tonight
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Five choppers for who lost, kill a nigga, we just might
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Bitch niggaz get left flat, like a flat rat in the street
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Abunch of young head spliters, like K.C. and B.G.
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Fuck the police, cause we spray them too
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Pop the cop or go down, cause we ain't down with that crew
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Get caught up in the crossfire, best believe It's All On U
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+Ohh, it ain't my fault+, I done what I had to do
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Give a fuck about no nigga, that nigga don't give a fuck about me
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Any chance he get he gon' take it, try to sweep me off my feet
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That's why I keep my eyes wide, nigga cross that line they gon' die
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Leave your families clueless, and questionin' why
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4-4 bull dogs bark loud, chopper moves crowds
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Innocent bystanders watch out, them lil thugs act wild
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[B.G.]
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I'm a ride or die-er, smoke nothin' but that fire-ya
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Keep all my hoes cause I'm a liar
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Neighborhood uh-hotter that a toaster, ridin' MoMo's
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and I'll roast a deal what's on my old poster,
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if I pull it out my holster
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You sopposed'a, respect a nigga like me
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I'm gettin' closer and closer to the T-O-P
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I'm H-O-T, bitches say I'm a D-O-G
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I'm on surveilance all day be the S-P-D's
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In my heart I feel, fuck the police
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Cause in they hear they feel, fuck it,
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try to keep a nigga off the street
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Who? Not I, nigga, the trillest B.G.
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Lots'a money, and the best attourney speak for me
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And I speak and represent for the U.P.T.
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I creep, and get bent with VL Street
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I' slang heat, any day, noise I bring
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Feel I can't be bat any day, I'm a Hot Boy, I let 'em hang
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Far as they can, cause I'm a thug to the fullest
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Pistol in my hand, trigga I pull it 'til there's no more bullets
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I ain't the one to be repped on
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Who whole block get stepped on
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If they outside, when I'm ride, I'ma ride 'til there's no more gas
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I'ma ride 'til I put you on your muthafuckin' back
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I'm in all black, behind the skuh-uh-skimask
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It ain't no way that you could last
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I'm comin' like the task force, I blast with full force
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I'm sorry if your grandparents on the porch
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They All 'N
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[Juvenile]
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Even if I don't get no taller
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I'ma always be a CMB baller, smokin' blunts in the hallway
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I'm skinny yeah, weighin' 'bout 155
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But believe I could tote a chopper, believe bitches could die
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Now play with the man, full of that dope with a K in his hand
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Don't want hear what'cha sayin' just don't be here when I sprayin'
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How you gon' do it, we could handle that no secret
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Boy, I'll put some change on you head take you off the street quick
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Look, I got a Mack-90 that won't quit
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I got clique foll of some njiggaz bout that funk shit
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So what you want, get you dome split
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You home hit, jeopardized
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Niggaz spendin' a bin in camoflauge
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I'ma top knot shot caller, from the clique CMB Ballers
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Fuckin' niggaz daughters, got my shit sittin' on Brawlers
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I'm mad boy, with this clique I'ma act a ass boy
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It's cash boy, I don't think you could last boy
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I'm bout to pull some out the hall type shit
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Some Steven Seagal type shit
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Some *cgghh* knife shit
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Don't think you niggaz feelin' that 226
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Behind me the crucifix, chop or get chopped, split or get split
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Doogie, Lil Wayne, Lil Turk, Lil Terius, better tell 'em
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These niggaz are felons, "HOT BOY" be which we yellin'
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Right know you close to the devil, and your lip gon' get you hurt
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Picture this, three ways gon' tear up your turf
Kodak Black Says He Doesn't Use Soap 😂
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