Lyrics
verse 1:
who it be?
baby cee, 2004.
fly girls dropping draws, playa haters dropping jaws.
don't make me drop jaws, buck to the 50.
outline your grill bitch now call me pretty.
not diddy, running the city without a band.
get your ass on the dancefloor.
drinks in your hand?
sit em down, i been around for a minute.
catch me in the corner of a club getting lifted.
my life is filled with more drama than a baby momma.
but tonight i wanna party, so pass the ganja.
and get loose off that gin and juice.
i'm about to hit the stage.
can i get introduced?
1, 2, my mic check is off the meter.
girl, i still got the antidote for your fever.
so take your coat off, let some skin show.
some groupies knocking on the door, let them in yo.
chorus:
first i'm gonna bounce on the track like whoa!
then i'm gonna rock this mic with ill flow.
skating through your town serving customers.
i'm a hustler, roll with a nigga.
(2x)
verse 2:
now we bouncing out the club, shawty all on my arm.
i might hit the hotel, shawty set the alarm.
for 6, cause after you lick dick i split.
after i get explicit, i'm like liquid.
till then, come out them clothes and pose.
wanna see your body shake, while you harlem shake, oh!
i'm feeling royal, put the cap on the crown.
chit chat, not allowed, lay your pretty ass down.
ain't nothing better when the cheddar is in your grip.
got some feathers in your whip, for a late night trip.
please, geez louise, i been a g.
but you might o.d. the way i p-i-m-p.
it's 360, north cacalak's illest.
yeah, i'm not the hardest but i'm damn sure the realest.
he say, she say, bitch mind your business.
i'm back with a new one, fuck what your crew done.
repeat chorus
verse 3:
i thought i told ya'll there's no final attempts.
either niggaz think i'm lying or they waiting for this classic.
the greenville bastard, soldier if you stand up, bitches throw their hands up, you might get your hands cuffed.
but fuck the law, i fuck them whores and puff the raw, plus want some more, i gotta score.
whether on your block or on the low making tracks.
i'm a stay making stacks, first i weigh all my packs.
then it's time to strap a cross, i don't play with no gats.
move quiet, your bitch want me to play with her cat.
move silent, that's the way you enjoy your dollars.
i'm the pilot, hang your man from a helicopter.
hypnotic, give me one mic, trust i got ya.
the chronic, give me the taste for shrimp and lobster.
fuck a downfall, i'm here for the long haul.
just trying to find a way to get the lames off the wall.
repeat chorus
