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Mr. Ivan
Right now we got a lil' youngsta
Lil' Doogie, from the B.G.'z
Do what'cha gotta do mane
Say what'cha gotta say Wayne
Lil' Wayne
The rhymes you are about to hear are true
Mr. Ivan
This some true s**t.
First Verse-B.G.
Shoulda killed you girls when we heard that song
Tipped it on, talkin' bout 6th & Baronne
When the fkin' lights on up early in the mornin' ,
All that muth*fkin' creepin'
p*ssin' on the set when a nigg* Dee, sleepin'
p*ssy ass
You know you can't survive,
You was creepin' through that third, you must don't know it's do or die
Now that nigg* on my list
A P-poppin' b*tch no disresp
P-Poppin' b*tch no disresp
P-poppin', P-Poppin', P-Poppin' b*tch no disrespect to the tenth
But there's a p*ssy in your face and they can suck and d*ck
Ridin' and slidin' with all that workin' and twerkin'
You can't be no "G", cuz a "G" not down wit jerkin'
Them always comin' with that play,
You want some real drama, why don't you bring that s**t our way?
Cuz I'm a Baby Gangsta down for that street funk,
Stuntin' in a concert, take it to the fkin' trunk
Talkin' all that bulls**t, talkin' all that s**t on wax,
Talkin' all that yak-yak, but I'ma split your Kool-Aid pack b*tch
I got my pistol close at hand, this for the REAL,
Real p*ssies in the can
Bridge One-Lil Wayne/Mr. Ivan
The rhymes you are about to hear are true.
This some true s**t.
Verse Two-B.G.
Chuck fkin' them at niggggggggggght
They doin' bad and slangin' rhymes at the same time, ain't lyin'!
Now this nigg* is a muth*fkin' d*ck beater
Heard at Corn(?) he was a muth*fkin' cheerleader
fkin' wit a B.G., best believe you will get served
I'ma leavin' ya muth*fkin' thinking cap on the curb
Chuck got some mail? Cuz oh yes, I'm comin' to get'cha
And if I don't get 20 G's I'ma split'cha,
I'm a murderer, server, nigg* come try to test
Had to put'em to rest, no vest but one to the chest
But uh, you know you done fked up don't cha?
Like Yella said, you mad cuz CaUSDh Money didn't want'cha
Let's move across that water strapped with that A.K.
They got some wannabe crips, wanna bang, go to L.A.
Now you can claim, the East, North, West, or South
Mystikal fool, you can pump this d*ck right in your mouth
Them be rappin', very much trippin'
Talkin' all that nonsense, slippin' talkin' bout they be crippin'
But it's like this, watch out before you get bucked
I'm tellin' coward as* to raise up, raise up, raise up
Third Verse-B.G.
At first he was a cheerleader now he ain't that nigg* to fk wit
That goes to show you studio yeah that nigg* buck quick
You duck sick when I catch'cha, you best to start to runnin',
Cuz I'm comin', start duckin', cuz I'm bustin', and pluckin'
fk it
Chuck, you big trick, you hoe b*tch,
Puttin' stank hoes in apartments and s**t
And ummm, them who help you get the money you straight fcK EM
When check time come, they gets nothin', you pluck em
And y'all hoes for lettin' him take it,
Hard rolled and fake it,
best to look like skatin'
Now back to this muth*fkin' Mystikal b*tch
You wanna jump on a nigg* like a morphody*ke come jump on the d*ck
That's enough of this hoe s**t on the real
If you don't spit "G" s**t with skillz you can't pay bills I make mils
I close the shop for them wanna shine
Sign on my nine when I put it on your mind into your spine
Don't whine, can't handle me not hard
I'm the b*tch who came to fk up the party
When I catch'cha I'ma kill ya don't worry,
This is another part of that fkin' true story
4th Verse-B.G.
Partners you bet not do no crime,
Get no time and go to JAIL
Cuz in that two man cell, best believe you gone get NAILED
Mystikal you'z a hoe, it's time I Iet'cha know
Y'all ain't ready for Local five, got a boot camp fulla hoes
I'm gat totin', ready to leave your heart open
Bullets floatin', hot nine chambers smokin'
Uptown, ya bound to get y'all wig split
Y'all represent a 17th set that don't even exist
Now that's a shame, you reppin' just to get a name
You can't survive in this game cuz you lame
I'm ready to take it to some "G" s**t, street s**t
Where caps get peeled, and wigs bound to get split
I'm off Valence, ain't no doubt this B.G. ain't real
I'm bout to *hic* hiccup some bullets out my fkin' steel
Peel, make kneel, bow down
From this clown that's gonna put you six in the ground.
It's time a nigg* put Big Boy where the fk they belong
Rollin' wit Tec-9 best believe it's on
Raise up, raise up, raise up, raise up, raise up
