| Lyrics: | Chorus:
Now you can't hang around, my crew or my clique,
Especially if you ain't
about no gangsta shit,
You can't hang around, my crew or my clique,
Especially if you
ain't about no gangsta shit
First Verse:
Kirby's round the corner playin' bones
with Russ,
I'm waitin' for my bitch to get off of the bus,
She told me she could make it
to my house by twelve,
So we could get it on, just amongst ourselves,
She came to, I had a
blunt to blow,
After that, I'ma be ready to fuck this hoe,
I ran up in it for an hour or
so,
Put her back in the bus and took a route to the store,
Picked up some brew for the
rest of my crew,
And a couple of cigars for a blunt or two,
Headed for the D.J. Way on
Teledonna,
Now this area was all about drama,
Hoes was sweatin', I had my shades on,
Ready to put the dick on any bitch that I played on,
Now what's the haps with you and your
clique?
I don't think you want no more gangsta shit,
Mo I can roll, I'm just a baller from
the South,
Ready to knock any muthafuckin' pussy out,
I got bitches on the side wanna ride
with nine,
But don't understand the way that I kicks the style,
But I'm a flexor, to
riggedy-wrecks-a nigga from the Nolia,
I'm goin' out everytime when I kick I'm like a solja,
Niggas don't understand the way that I flow,
The fliz-no is slow, so check this out bro
Chorus
Second Verse:
I kicks the shit that make them niggas say "ooh",
That'll make them hoes say "Yeah, that must be that nigga Juv",
I'm from the, wild side of
the city,
What a pity, I'm wild, like a muthafuckin' crazed Frank Nitty,
I'm not the old
days nigga tha |
