[Intro: Trick Daddy]
We gon' let the band deal with this
M-I-A style, old school
Okay, shut up
[Hook: Trick Daddy]
Ah hah, okay, wassup? Shut up (x4)
[Verse 1: Trick Daddy]
Riding round in my brand new '99, fo'-do', Volvo
I got a pocket full of Bs, cocoa weed
And ain't got no place to go, though
But all my Boca Boys, they know dough, that's fosho doe
(Are those Bugle Boy jeans you're wearing?)
Hell nah, ho, you know they Polo
I been used again, accused again
This time, been wrong to chop something done by one of my union friends
Soon as they seen the Benz, hating season was in
Hell, cause they figured me for not understanding they reason being
Heh, but I'm the man for this
While y'all was doing fine, I was doing time, just praying for this
Locked up, making plans for this
Without all that fancy shit, way too advanced for this
Just Polo socks, tank tops, and drawers up under my pants and shit
Shut up
[Hook x2: Trick Daddy]
[Verse 2: Trina]
Okay, who's the baddest bitch?
I been real, been rich, been had this shit
Big Benz, big house and shit
That's right, okay, I been down with Trick
Okay, it make sense to me
Cause if your money ain't right, you speaking French to me
Miss Trina, don't play with me
Or you can say Miss Bigg, that's okay with me
You need a grand just to speak to me
Okay, are you sure you wanna sleep with me?
Okay, you better be fosho
Cause I done left niggas like you stuck befo'
Okay, you can ball with me
Since you got a hot knot, spend it all with me
Okay, y'all know what's up
Okay, uh huh, I ride, shut up
[Hook: Trick Daddy]
[Verse 3: CO]
This goes out to my niggeroles
And them pretty ass jazzy hoes, bitch, what's up
C-O got a verse in the book of thugs
So when I come through, bitch, show me love
If you 'bout that flow, then raise it up
You got that funk, then blaze it up
I got two mos of them phat hoes
Late night and I'm ready to bust
Are you okay? Look like you got a lot to say
Okay, come widdit
Niggas, keep hiding your hoes, what you do that fo'
Me and Money Mark been done hit it
Been done split it, okay, playboy? Fuck you say, boy?
Don't even much bring your ho 'round C
Niggas, y'all better quit fucking with me
Shut up
[Hook: Trick Daddy]
[Verse 4: Deuce Poppito]
Lay down, playboy, what's up
What about the slugs in your head and your gut
What's up with the keys to the truck
Your own nigga say you got Bs in the cut
What's up with the safe, what the combo
Open that shit, nigga, fuck all the convo-sation
What's up witcha Haitian
Probably got birds at the safehouse, waiting
What's up, where you store the D?
I ain't found shit but a quarter ki
Nigga, you better not be playing me
You gon' bleed to death, you understand me?
Wassup, are you ready to go?
You ready to tongue kiss with the blue fo'-fo'?
What's up, fuck nigga, say something
Set your crime, we ready to spray something
Gun play, how I got the stripes
2-4-K turned out the lights
Gun play, how I got the stripes
2-4-K turned out the lights
[Hook x2: Trick Daddy]
