B What It B

Yo, yo, Lads, yo, my nigga. Son, just come through to the spot, son. Me and Blitz in the crib, nigga Ice here, Son. Know what mean? I only wanna talk dirty On the jack. When you get this message, just Hit me back, my nigga, ASAP. I got the feds, yo. Ayo, the feds, yeah, yo. I got the feds all on my back tryna Clap me, entrap me, then set me up, kill Me down and wet me up. Never gets enough Of that adrenaline rush through my veins, taking Risks with that cocaine and that dope game. No pain, then no gain, no crack rock, no Fast walk. Rebels in that black life, heroin and Crack pipes. Live up to that stereotype, Young, Black, and I'm just not giving a fly Fuck, my thug. Climbing up ghetto ladders to success With the tech. Forty bricks and that triple beam, My work, it cripple fiends. I triple cream, quadruple it then stack it. That Calico, click-clack, then clap it, who Trapping? We hustle in the hood, son, Aquadama Hoodlum. All up in the slums with them criminals, Thugs, and them guns on fully with blood too Corrupt, shit. Feds can suck dick, It be's what it be. Not for nothing, yo, it's gon' be what it Be. We pop buzzing, yo, it's gon' be what It be. My gun busting, yo, it's gon' be What it be. Niggas be thugging, yo, it's gon' Be what it be. Not for nothing, yo, it's gon' be what it Be. We pop buzzing, yo, it's gon' be what It be. Niggas be thugging, yo, it's gon' be What it be. Let it be what it be, It's gon' be what it be 'cause. We buzzing, yo, it's gon' be what it be Like. Nine shots, three Glocks, I'm living the G Life. Street life got me going crazy, Baby mama drama. Aquadama let the llama pop, Get your mama shot. I'm ABG'd up, Got my billies mobbing. Red Chucks, hat to the back, I'm really Harlem. Nine techs and grenades, nigga stepping, get Sprayed. You know J stay fly, bust guns, Get paid. When my goons shake, your sons get Laid, nigga pop off. Twenty-one gun salute, the block hot sauce. Nigga, please, this Big Beez with the beehive. Got your crystal heart, giving head in the G Ride. O-D-O-P, Aquadama OG. Nine tre, nine spray, peace, most most beasts. I be in the hood where it's good with The homies. Big guns, bitch, run, Nigga, you don't know me. Not for nothing, yo, It's gon' be what it be. We pop buzzing, yo, it's gon' be what it Be. My gun busting, yo, it's gon' be what It be. Niggas be thugging, yo, it's gon' be What it be. Not for nothing, yo, it's gon' Be what it be. We pop buzzing, yo, It's gon' be what it be. Niggas be thugging, yo, it's gon' be what it Be. Let it be what it be, it's gon' Be what it be 'cause. Fuck around and like an artist I will draw The gun. Clapped up outside your home and body Bag for fun. That's right. Blitz on the rise Something like the morning sun. Any dude that backstabs me, I'ma torture them. Yeah. Because don't give a fuck and that's the Truth. Nope. I don't only talk tough when I'm In the booth. I'm not fake like the fairy That collects your tooth. Your boy real, just look At me, I'm living proof. Yes, sir. Breeze through my city in that new Whip. Yeah. It don't take much for me to Flip. No. The streets get more chalk than a Q-tip. My gun, I'm emptying, I'ma need a new Clip. Blatt. Haters never wanna see my reaction 'cause it don't look nice when I blast the Pump action. Nah. I break wacksters down like they a fraction. My chain ice, so in the minus like a Subtraction. Not for nothing, yo, it's gon' be what It be. We pop buzzing, yo, it's gon' be What it be. My gun busting, yo, it's gon' Be what it be. Niggas be thugging, yo, It's gon' be what it be. Not for nothing, yo, it's gon' be what it Be. We pop buzzing, yo, it's gon' be what It be. Niggas be thugging, yo, it's gon' be What it be. Let it be what it be, It's gon' be what it be 'cause. Fuck the rocket power grenade and coward laid. This is what, how it made. Nowadays it's the MAC-12 sagging. Clip got a full house, dip if I pulls Out. What it be, knee-deep in the dope game. Two lines for the fiends like Soul Train. Cocaine colored M3 shoes on. Sit still, I'm the wrong one to move on. Too gone to be saved, don't preach shit. Got a PhD in the street shit. Three blicks, no names to the eight squad. Damn, son, that nigga had his face hard. He a rat, we clap like show's over. Showboaters get chased by the whole hood. Lads ain't no good. Bitch, blow wood. I'm a thug. Slip, get a slug. Man, what it be like