Bout It Bout It
Jim Jones, Master P, Cam’ron
I represent where them killers at
145th and Broadway you get your head cracked
Get your legs snapped, arm-twist
Ribs cracked
Wig tapped, "play fair!" Day care
Kids napped
You think you real? Well, my posse is crazier
Your moms? Mobbing and raping her
Saudi Arabia i'm 89 tho, Audi and Avias
Beef in N O, I had to call No Limit up
Baby MAC, baby Gat, shit to wake the baby up
Got my baby boo
Cop the X5: that's a baby truck
Santana rolling big, Jimmy in the Caddy
Dayton, Youngstown, Cleveland, Cincinnati
In the double-O I represent the C-O
Please ho, Harlem World, 40th: that's me, yo
Clips, 11 off bricks, get 7 off
Snow so white only thing missing is 7 dwarfs
Killa Cam: you know he bout it, bout it
Jim Jones: you know he bout it, bout it
Freeky Z: you know he bout it, bout it
Santana: that boy bout it, bout it
Harlem World: you know they bout it, bout it
Diplomats: you know they rowdy, rowdy
145th and Broadway, them boys real
You know them boys they don't play
Aiiyo, I'm bouncing through an ounce or two
My crib look like the Fountainblue
A fountain too - no water
Only pumping Mountain Dew
Front on y'all little cats I was bound to do
I made it where chickenheads
Can't pronounce my shoes
I got head, but need more mouth
119th to the whorehouse soon
As the tour's out papi's rotten
My block top was spoppy poppin'
I pop ack over some oxycontin
Cotton club and Roxy Robins
Rubies and rocks we poppin'
Booties, Uzis and Glocks'll stop em
Battery on his head: copper-top him
When I'm in the building, dogg
You've got to watch him
Got to spot him, tre-8 a floor revolve him
The DA, sargeant and coroner's problem - now
Highs get 8 done, Dipset don't play none
Jim Jones, Freeky
Killa and the great one - Santana
You know I claim
(What you claim?) where them gangstas bang
15th and Lenox, 9- tre
They do they own thing
In Uptown, up on 40 a phat Sean hit the block
Dogg, he move that water shit
He like the network
Over wet work you come up
Short on that paper, get a wet shirt
Then if you walking through Foster and Taft
Flossing that cash then gangstas put
The torch to your ass
And I can't forget AK and Wagner
My dogs straight crazy cause
The AK'll blast ya
One calling daddy Sheik and Q
LB's and Sally beat your crew, now come on
And dope stacks
Right in front the liquor store
Hennssey, lil me
Me you know the flipped the raw
Much upset, oh yeah they bout it
16 shots up out the Glock, I come up out it
I represent the South
Now the world gonna feel us
Worth $400 mil', still dumping gorillas
I'm in the project posted up, like Toys 'R Us
Retire my jersey - 65 for
Every chicken I plucked
Pass the purple stuff, whoadie
It's time to get swerk up on the block, 1
000 grams on Hogan and Kirk
We in them t-shirts and doo rags
Females all fall back when the No
Limit boys in the house
Haters get back hot One hold it down
In foreign ghettoes big Boys, Uptown, Russian
C-Murder locked up
But his name still ringin'
Big Simp getting yoked, ridin'
Hustlin' and slangin'
You know we bout iti mean we rowdy!
New Orleans to the ATL: you know
They bout it bout it
Saint Louis, they keep it swangin'
LA to Las Vegas
Them homies out there gangbangin'
Oklahoma to Tennessee
Them boys ain't playin'
Cause you know they B-O-U T
Texas, Florida Detroit, Georgia
Them boys dunn graduated from an 8th
Up on to water-water
Kansas bout it virginia rowdy!
Illinois boys to Mississippi: bout it bout it
New York, Arizona, the Bay Area
The whole California! North Carolina
South Carolina: throw dem bows
Pennsylvania, Alabama: bout to let em know
Missouri rowdy boston bout it!
New Orleans and Rockafella: it's
Bout it bout it
Written by: Lyrics © Sentric MusicLyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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