you know about?.. [Verse 2: Young Buck] Keep my name out ya mouth Before them AK shells come straight in ya house Won't stop 'till ya whole block layin
gotta have Deez kids want money nigga fuk uh autograph How can you be mad wen dey jus follow n yo path Ya look n laugh at niggaz eattin out da trash
ass bitches become real hell naw don't forget bout the spliff and I tell ya'll should I spell ya'll fake ass bustas before I see ya and I can tell by
MJG..") Let's get it crunk up in this bitch ("Eightball..") Where ya at? ("MJG..") Where ya at huh? Where ya at huh? Where ya at? Where ya at huh? .. ("
to have the ahh, people in the crowd throwing things at the officers) (And swinging at them as well, as a result A young woman there, you see took a swing at at
my money right chick, But why they let me in I'm a start shootin at a mosh pit, haha Fuck is you talkin bout, weezy in ya mouth now Weezy whatchu talkin
buck buck and buck buck again I will butt fuck your friend then suck up her twin I put the buck up to him then buck buck and buck buck and buck buck again
y'all suggestions, I just always did my own thing, Now I run the game, you stupid muddasuckas I see all this money through my ohio state buck eyes, Shit
We doing it real big right here! all my money niggaz This shit commentated on the one's and two's! They call me the Mighty Rule! how ya living? This real
stiff arm my bery tight but it stay like a penetray yung money we outta school but we got chemistry young spitta young man young cop young mall taspo
: (feat. Young Buck, Gutter Boy) [Young Buck talking] Young Buck, Quanie Cash and Gutter Boy nigga We come to tell all you broke niggaz to get yo stash
burst the pipeline Keep ya eyes on ya enemies watch those close to ya See them outside niggas can't touch ya it be the ones inside that do ya Smilin' in ya
Bloody ya clothes Gun to ya nose All of you niggaz you really need to give up more money and dope Face the floor Forty-four Into ya head Droppin 'em dead
streets (yeah) Who you kiddin' nigga, I put my life on these beats (YEAH!) Fuck bein' broke, this a reality check (check) While you mad at ya girl, ya
room Where the money getters was at And street people With feather in the cap Or their bossolino Pullin paper As if it's a small casino I was a young
can't cope For my brother, I even kill a Pope, word to mother Serial, killa, style from the Isle of Stat My peoples are you with me where you at? Shit