Hold Something E

Okay, what's happening, What's what you gotta do. Yeah, you know gonna do that. Do what you gotta do. For real. All the time, though. Do what you gotta do. P's up, hoes down. For my real ones. Do what you gotta do. Do what I gotta do. Move how I gotta move. Shaking fake niggas that be acting like obstacles. Never had a team, ain't no I in that. Did it all by myself, I can't lie about That. And when the label shut me down, I Just got back up. And then I met J Grand and I walked back up. And then I linked Harry Fraud, watched him shake Shit up. Printing vinyls on our own like we Don't take cuts. Take a lot to do it All in the streets, no smut. Niggas got they hand out, wanna take shortcuts. Long nights in the lab, I was at Sean House. Making records in the closet, bitch, Shut your mouth. Taking all my own money and I put it back in. Laughing to the bank every time my records spin. Grin on my face, I don't give two shits. Rather share my last dollar with a down-ass bitch. Do what is going on down here? I'm a businessman, man. What the fuck you think Going I'm trying to come up, man. Cut, cut. Come on, you need to hurry up. I got shit to do. Well, I got shit To do also. Come on, hurry up. Do what you gotta do. I was moved by Myself, that's on dub SP. No security guard, but I'm from dub SP. Hundred thousand on my wrist, no strap on me. Good in anybody hood, you can go ask G. You can go ask Rick, you can go ask Suge. You can ask your baby mother, yeah, You know I would. I had to distance myself From a lot of that shit. Niggas start come around like they a part of That shit. Niggas start acting jealous like they Bothered and shit. All the sudden they start to Feel like you owing them shit. I made this music by myself, long nights by Myself. No deal, no label, didn't need no one Help. How the fuck you even think that you A part of this shit? Make me sick, make Me wanna load the cartridge and shit. Supposed to be my homie, but you act like A bitch. I don't need nobody, just myself and That's it. Do you do. Oh, oh, oh, oh, check this out. Spare me on this one, Weezy. I appreciate you sincerely for doing that little old Time for your sahib. Least I could do. You threw the damn gun In my lap. That was quick thinking, But a nigga ain't like that shit. I'm saying, Weezy, boy, I had to think quick. The L-words was on my ass. It was very valuable for me to do that. All right, right. Well, I ain't tripping on it, Why don't you let a nigga hold something?