Thou shall not front on real shit Aww hell Face a thousand deaths From Mr. Spit Vicious I go hard like concrete floors Make bitches legs open like lambo doors Up, Out Nigga rock the first season DBC to Mr. Chow My ghetto chick orderin food she cant pronounce Eat mama Let it stick to your ribs But no pics Tell your friends bout the shit that we did Cuz I cant have no evidence Of me hangin with other chicks Floatin round Wifey tryna fight me on some Springer shit It's Curren$y Or you can call me Mr. Clean Kicks My day job consists of business first And video games Bong hits and pullin skirts Vacationing month long trips Scamp of the Earth I'm tryna find what any All do was in search of Was it love Not sho But I know That ya man Hot Spitta aint One of these niggas who Don't know how to dress So they swagga jack Jigga Wait to see him on stage wit it Then they internet shop until they get it I saw they same thing happen to me Niggas laughed at my Steez Now they wearin DC's Fashion misfits I'm fashion gifted You niggas Boo Boo Find Yogi Crash a picnic Spitta, yeaTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
