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MC Eiht - Who's Tha Man lyrics
Geah Hey (c'mon) To the full degree (c'mon, geah check it out) (check it out) We 'bout it Gettin' that paper We 'bout it Check it out Federalies gaffling up so keep it tight These songs to do wrong so fuck being right Late nite hype's the fiends Nobody serves 'em better to the letter We gets the chedder To the way back days Where the Half Ounce lays Gun tucked by the nuts As the one time struts Gets my bail on cause I ain't tryin' to get caught around here Be another nigger locked up for the next 10 years No Shapiro, no ?Sapino?, big bambino Roulette spends 20 G's in the casino Hits the blackjack decked in Armani (In a 9-6-5 I'm Clyde, my bitch is Bonnie) Too sweet Better yet too clean, pickin' the paper Takin' you there like the Staples, but they ain't catchin' no vapors You can't see me, nobody I trust Only the Half Ounce smokers get no cheese like us I said do you got paper? Check it out I said we got paper, no doubt uh Get your scrilla anyway you can Floss around town, bitch who's the man... To the days When I used to keeps my stash in the bush Nowadays be clientele with parents that push In my drop top with the laptop keeping up president straight Ok, who gots the pick-up? Bitch touch down at 8 My niggas got the pick-up, the pager starts ringing It's payday, ho's know, that's why they start singing Dollar bills y'all And me throwing away pleas Fools got me too fucked up thinking snaps grow on trees Ain't no government given away free cheese And the bitch going through anything that floss on these D's Better watch out cause they might have you straigh |
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