I Got it Like That Flow

(*talking*) Run it, gangstas and gentlemen It's your boy, Killa nigga (they know who it is) That's right nigga, run it yeah That's right, the truth in this bitch nigga The truth in this motherfucker nigga, (Killa) [Kyleon] On and on, and my Glock I'm palming Take two shots, and call me in the morning You ain't gotta see P. Diddy, to get a warning Or go to Big Poppa, to ask him who shot ya I'm the doctor, this lyrical surgery The truth in the booth, while y'all committing purgery I'm a star on these tracks G, go and ask P With the flow, water's the only thing that can match me Apply pressure, that'll knock off your shoulders I'm finna to do away with these, knock off Hovas Spit a sixteen, end your careers Since you can't see me, tell somebody lend you a ear Now they listening, the picture's clear I'm in the top spot, whack raps can't get you here And that's the reason, why I got this nice bling With these Bathing Apes fits, and this kicks by Ice Cream [PJ] Six in the morning, back on the block With a big black Glock, and a pack full of rocks Back on top, out of the FED's Outlaw nigga, back getting his bread Straight from the hood, that's all I know Sell grams of this dro, or grams of blow Hustler fa sho, the O.G.'s told me Trust no nigga, do my dirt by my lonely Most niggas fony, fraud as hell Rap or the trap, got bars for sale Niggas be hating, pay em no mind Keep fucking they bitches, stay on my grind Hate to see a nigga shine, mad and shit Niggas act like, they never had shit PJ nigga, G fa sho Just hit a nigga up, when you need that snow [Chris Ward] My flow is hell-a-vicious, your's is repetitious I's a playa spread the word, go tell them bitches They just mad at me, and hate me gladly Cause I ain't they baby daddy, pushing that baby caddy See I'm that nig, they call C. Wig That pump more oil, than a fucking oil rig I got a style, that the whole world can dig And I can make any track, snap like a twig Even though my flow, is kinda hard to catch on You gotta do like Lambo doors, and latch on On my hip like a phone clip, the strap is attached on If you disrespect the kid, leave half your back gone See all my life, I done rolled with G's Thugstas hustlers, and I roll with thieves You niggas, is pussy You need to check yourself between the legs, to see if you got ovaries As for me, my pockets stay overdosed with these And I got more dames, than churches got rosaries Yeah-yeah I'm C. Wiggity Whoadie Weez With a attitude, that can take on four of me's I got goals, for the future And one of them is to sell c.d.'s, overseas I mean I'm to the point, where I'm trying to weigh my own salaries Hundred percent fat, plus high counts of calories You know, I get in these hoes head like allergies And have em bidding over the dick, like they at those galleries These new rappers, don't flatter me Even though they say imitation, is the highest form of flattery (*talking*) Thank ya but no thank ya, dick riders [Slim Thug] The Boss is back, the Boss is back I told P let a G, G talk to that You wanna be like the Boss, it'll cost you black Saw a lot of good years, I'm a flosser black Whether rap or crack, the money the proof A straight hustler from the youth, nigga that's the truth When y'all was shooting hoops, through the nets and loops I was standing on the block, or standing in the booth Like I'ma get it, like Nino or Snoop shit Either or, but fuck being poor I'ma walk up the block, till my legs get sore Spit hits in the mic, till my throat get raw Run the streets, if it's peace or war If I gotta squash beef, shoot the heat some more We're here this evening, for one reason To keep the streets bleeding, this Outlaw season The light green, for me and my dream team To be scene from Queens, to the streets of Bejing So clean when I hit the scene hot new drop New bop on the block, picking up a new knot Got the number one spot, records sell or not Nan nigga wanna see me, in that parking lot Nan nigga wanna see me, when it come to the diamonds I'll blind him, you crazy I'll out shine him Rock in the pinky ring, cost mo' than your set up Chain so heavy, I can barely hold my head up You seen a yard, with this many cars Whatever you ain't making no sense, lil' man just shut up