Lyrics:
f/ E-Wreks, Wiz Gam
[6-Nine - overlapping chorus]
Don't let nobody else in this bull
One two one two
Is this mic on?
[Chorus: RAM Squad]
I see nothin but gangsters up in here
I see nothin but ballers up in here
I see nothin but dough stacks up in here
I see nothin but flossers up in here
[6-Nine] Aaaah yeah!
[B Backs] We gon' mash it up
If you lames want war, we gon' blast it up
If you think you got bling, we gon' flash it up
RAM Squad/Universal gon' stack it up
[** extra before Tommy Hill **]
[6-Nine] Aaaah yeah!
[B Backs] We gon' mash it up
If you lames want war, we gon' blast it up
If you think you got bling, we gon' flash it up
RAM Squad/Universal gon' stack it up
[Tommy Hill]
Yo, I spit six million bars, had sixty-six cars
Got drunk in over thirty-six bars
Been in six shoot-outs, seven busters
Fucked up, five clutches, stick shifts I can't fuck wit
Had two rovers, had a land turned that over
Just lost two aunts, both to Jehovah
I excite the night, I'm like hyped wit my C-spite
Bitches know we eatin right, shorty say we look alike
The ice is real, my life is real
Cats wanna fight for my deal, like a big faced bill
I bleed for money, cuz my seeds need money
Plus she loves me, MONEY IS MY BITCH!
Mad Joey, all these rich cats, wearing gold rollies
Up in fast cars, playin David Bowie
Puffin cigars, rare BM's and Jaguars
Cadillac, Black, mock-necks and strip bars
[6-Nine] Aaaah yeah!
[Chorus] - First 1/2 only
[E-Wreks]
C'mon Wiz!
Hustlin hard, under the sun, sun to sun
Put me on, throw me a ton
I fuck around, I owe you one
Shit ain't the same no more, turned for the worst
Streets got deeper, fuck my cell phone and beeper
Keep away from the limelight, get a grip
Get mind right, the Fed's trying to indict
I'm like a dissapearin act; where? Somewhere in the back
I ain't gotta floss for y'all, I boss and ball
[6-Nine] Aaaah yeah!
[Chorus] - Full chorus
[6-Nine] Aaaah yeah!
[Suave]
Let me do my thing; y'all gon' know my name
when I bust through the screen, it's the same old thing
I'm just in the game with a little more bling
And I got your number from that thing!
[Boy Backs]
I'm in your face like Biggio, Backs on the stereo
When I'm vertical yo, shit is gettin critical
You raggedy, shaggedy, straight faggotty
See me at Atlanta, wit a rimmed out Caddy
and my arm swingin, no chains, still blingin
You niggaz wrapped too booty and short like Flutie
I'm incognito, famous like Menudo
From here to Pluto, we like Popeye and Bluto
[Wiz Gam]
I'm somethin like a pelagon
Rap phenomenon, King Kong, Swing ron
Cocked don, when I grind I got the mack-thing
Crap-thing for the stat-thing
Y'all wanna fuck wit us? (Bring your rap game)
Picture me, black on black, Caesar, gangster
Hater, wanna thank ya, hot like Sanka
I got the mobs, the blocks to go with it
Thirty-Four for raw, Willy go get it
[6-Nine] Aaaah yea!
[Chorus] - Full chorus
[6-Nine] Aaaah yeah!
[Chorus] - Full chorus
[6-Nine - overlapping chorus]
Don't let nobody else in this bull
One two one two
Is this mic on?
[Chorus: RAM Squad]
I see nothin but gangsters up in here
I see nothin but ballers up in here
I see nothin but dough stacks up in here
I see nothin but flossers up in here
[6-Nine] Aaaah yeah!
[B Backs] We gon' mash it up
If you lames want war, we gon' blast it up
If you think you got bling, we gon' flash it up
RAM Squad/Universal gon' stack it up
[** extra before Tommy Hill **]
[6-Nine] Aaaah yeah!
[B Backs] We gon' mash it up
If you lames want war, we gon' blast it up
If you think you got bling, we gon' flash it up
RAM Squad/Universal gon' stack it up
[Tommy Hill]
Yo, I spit six million bars, had sixty-six cars
Got drunk in over thirty-six bars
Been in six shoot-outs, seven busters
Fucked up, five clutches, stick shifts I can't fuck wit
Had two rovers, had a land turned that over
Just lost two aunts, both to Jehovah
I excite the night, I'm like hyped wit my C-spite
Bitches know we eatin right, shorty say we look alike
The ice is real, my life is real
Cats wanna fight for my deal, like a big faced bill
I bleed for money, cuz my seeds need money
Plus she loves me, MONEY IS MY BITCH!
Mad Joey, all these rich cats, wearing gold rollies
Up in fast cars, playin David Bowie
Puffin cigars, rare BM's and Jaguars
Cadillac, Black, mock-necks and strip bars
[6-Nine] Aaaah yeah!
[Chorus] - First 1/2 only
[E-Wreks]
C'mon Wiz!
Hustlin hard, under the sun, sun to sun
Put me on, throw me a ton
I fuck around, I owe you one
Shit ain't the same no more, turned for the worst
Streets got deeper, fuck my cell phone and beeper
Keep away from the limelight, get a grip
Get mind right, the Fed's trying to indict
I'm like a dissapearin act; where? Somewhere in the back
I ain't gotta floss for y'all, I boss and ball
[6-Nine] Aaaah yeah!
[Chorus] - Full chorus
[6-Nine] Aaaah yeah!
[Suave]
Let me do my thing; y'all gon' know my name
when I bust through the screen, it's the same old thing
I'm just in the game with a little more bling
And I got your number from that thing!
[Boy Backs]
I'm in your face like Biggio, Backs on the stereo
When I'm vertical yo, shit is gettin critical
You raggedy, shaggedy, straight faggotty
See me at Atlanta, wit a rimmed out Caddy
and my arm swingin, no chains, still blingin
You niggaz wrapped too booty and short like Flutie
I'm incognito, famous like Menudo
From here to Pluto, we like Popeye and Bluto
[Wiz Gam]
I'm somethin like a pelagon
Rap phenomenon, King Kong, Swing ron
Cocked don, when I grind I got the mack-thing
Crap-thing for the stat-thing
Y'all wanna fuck wit us? (Bring your rap game)
Picture me, black on black, Caesar, gangster
Hater, wanna thank ya, hot like Sanka
I got the mobs, the blocks to go with it
Thirty-Four for raw, Willy go get it
[6-Nine] Aaaah yea!
[Chorus] - Full chorus
[6-Nine] Aaaah yeah!
[Chorus] - Full chorus
