Brick Licka

(*talking*) What what what what, we brick lickas nigga Hide your motherfucking ki's nigga Cause I come to get em nigga, (Mike D nigga) [Hook - 2x] Who run the town down, gun the town down Really out of town, shuffle bricks and pounds You know nigga, who the fuck I be Corleone nigga, the brick lick hitter [Mike D & (Clay Doe)] (who the fuck is you), Corleone the brick licka (how you handle niggas), with a hot point sticker (what you sipping on boy), straight bar no liquor (well how you handle broads), I'm a true dick sticker (what you flipping cat), Range fo' point sixer (who you run with nigga), Clay-Doe the wig splitter (who up in the crew), Young Duke the go-getter (what camp you claiming), Laf-Tex nigga [Hook - 2x] [Mike D] I don't know what make these hoes think, cause I stand out I'm good for a hand out, and making they land rot Motherfuckers must don't know bout me, Boss got me on from that 3 Where my niggas gon bust with me, side by side let em fly with me 24/7 getting high with me, always smoking on the finest tree Ain't no limit like Master P, money in the bank like Jermaine Dupri Hit a shot straight to his arteries, FED's still waiting on the autopsy Fucking with a nigga from 3-R-D, game and short to the Penitentiary You niggas gay and elementary, and I damn if you hoes try to contradict me Only real niggas gon stick with me, whether I'm broke or having money Send him on a test like a crash dummy, fighting with vets and old top primey's All I ride and all I slide, on buck hide DVD's inside All you niggas the big 4-1, are fucking with a nigga like me Like who cause I come to him nigga, Boss Hogg Corleone nigga [Hook - 2x] [Mike D] Got a thousand and one problems, and money still ain't a thang And I gamble my dope money, to get in this rap game Now look at me now, scrambling C.E.O. money Taking notes and quotes, from all you industry crash dummies Getting in where you fit in, like old hip hop bond Been in the game for ten deep, and you still working with crumbs That's why I'm planted like concrete, to the fam' we been in I don't need no new niggas around me, new millions only Front line, niggas that don't mind niggas Out of town niggas, that love to find niggas In a berry wine Bentley, dranked out on Remmy Throwing dick to bad chicks, when the X-O hit me 2000 trying to hit me, playing with legalized dope Doing circles round you dopefiend rappers, in low-low's Or maybe the fo' do', S Type Jag on chrome Corleone, gon get his hustle on [Hook - 2x] (*talking*) Scoob what's up, Dave, Ant Ain't forgot about y'all mayn, we in here doing this shit You know I'm saying Yellowstone, what's the deal Ward what, swang and holla at me mayn Know I'm saying, Clay, Brandoe We got what on the motherfucking tracks mayn what