Where It's at

[Intro: Cory Mo] I'd like to dedicate this song To them old flea market outfit wearin' ass niggas man I ain't ever seen you in no Cadillac And I ain't never seen you with a bad bitch man Gone with all the bullshit, get up off the booboo man If the pimp was here right now, he would expose you [Hook: Cory Mo] You say you swinging on 40's well where yo 'lac You say you got all the hoes well where they at You said you stackin' that bread Yea bitch I heard what you said Don't talk about it, be about it, where it's at You said you packin' that iron, nigga why you lyin' She ain't gonna let you get it pimpin' it stop tryin' You said yo' stackin' that cash we not believin' yo ass Don't talk about it, be about it, where it's at [Verse 1: Cory Mo] I'm sick and tired of niggas lyin' about the shit that they do But don't get it twisted those bitches be ridiculous too Thats why I hustle by my lonely speakin' only the truth If the profit margin ain't large enough, I'm chunkin' the deuce Show some respect, stop talkin' out the side of you neck You say you ballin' why you stallin' then? cut me my check All you do is fabricate the truth with special effects You need to take them monkey diamonds off you neck and you wrists Ya bitch Yeah you talk a good game but it ain't no truth in it If it ain't no proof then it ain't no use for you to claim that you pimpin' You violatin' codes (one) gain a soul not told (two) separate friends from foes (three) never put trust in hoes (four) what all glitters ain't gold Bars and seven they sold Still ain't sellin no records, you so irrelevant bro You speak about it but nobody never seen it though Difference between us, I don't say it if I don't mean it ho [Hook:] [Verse 2: Big KRIT] Hey now for starters I ain't fuckin' with no frauds Came in houses in old schools in they garages Like every bitch that they done fuck was dying for minajes (?) Its all make believe these niggas lookin' like mirages Bank account margin ain't equivelant to starvin' Niggas in the club tryin' to floss, can't pay they mortgage Actin' like he boss catchin' flights and takin' off Wouldn't bust a grape front like he might break you off Shit now Hol' up, I ain't trippin' Keep it real if you'se a poor pimp Some of ya'll niggas so simp You'd rather trick than buy more shrimp Or rather blow up like four blimps Get my gators slam my dough Ball in my paint with a cup full of dre Do what you ain't and break these hoes Pull up, hop out so clean, talkin' diamonds and wood Do it bigger than big, know you can't but you should Know you would if you could I'll just stay in the facts Don't talk about it, be about it, where it's at [Hook:]