A.G.

A.G. - Ishims lyrics

rate me

(feat. Ghetto Dwellas)

[Party Arty]

Yo, we some known thugs, bad to the bone thugs

The feds got the phone bugged, even player-haters show love

I gotta give Tone love, we call him Trigger cause he throw slugs

I sold drugs, every year, summer to summer

Now it's me and Flow pullin up Hummer to Hummer

Gettin money while y'all cats gettin Dumber & Dumber

I run with cats, livin sort of savage, extortion status

Pull out the nine and off with cabage, lil' faggots tossin salads

Party Arty, I push the Porsche to Dallas

Bumpin 'Horse & Carriage', flossin carats

Everywhere I go it's thugs and drugs

One day we bustin slugs, next day love is love

Next week it's on again, we at war again

So warn your men, G.D., we was born to sin

Take you back to the origin of this

Grab my dick and force it in your bitch

Flossin in a whip, niggas gun, I'm tossin em clips

[A.G.]

I roll with puff lye niggas, do or die niggas

Triple homicide niggas, y'all still my niggas

Son, it's A.G., hip hop legend

You can catch me in a silver 7

Blowin l's with my brethren

Honey think she a 10, hope she feel it's 11

I'm a 6 figure nigga 'bout to make it to 7

And y'all rap poem niggas get slapped and sent back home

Got more hot lines than Tac - phone, ask Tone

Shortie want it doggy style, I hit it like Snoop and shit

Your plaques, they platinum - still ain't recoupin shit

You rock Versace, heard you boost the shit

Girls on some rooster shit, lovin me on some cupid shit

(Stupid bitch) I reek havoc at seminars, showtime

Like Magic and Jabar won't have it cause I'm Allah

Shorties wishin on a star, here's one with a dick attached

They think these wicked raps, niggas front, we get the gats

[D Flow]

Yo, I gangbang, let the pain ring, leave your brain stained

Let the chain hang, front, I'ma pop that thang-thang

Know them chicks remember a nigga like me

When I'm done them bitches 'get on the bus' like Spike Lee

The best I might be, burn you lightly with 10 bars

I bend broads, big dick nigga with 10 cars

Open you up with- Gem-stars- your mentals

Floss every now and then, but son, I been large

Listen, bitches acknowledge the don and polish the -one

Got gats with silencers on when I have my son a prophet is born

Ain't no stoppin us calm from droppin the bomb

Rolex watch on the arm, the type to plop on your moms

Trust no one, don't talk, roll on or get stole on

G.D., me and P, we get our muthafuckin flow on

I make a bad bitch lick the asscrack

Cause they turn me off with "can I have this, can I have that?"

Hoes even ask for half the ASCAP

But I ain't tricked since I was 16, bitch, I'm past that

Nowadays pass the gat, let me dirty the shit

Muthafucka, let me see how dirty you get

Me and my nigga ride around in convertable shit

And if it's us on the track, no doubt, we murder the shit

Yeah

G.D.

Party Arty

A.G.

D-Flow

My man Woo's up in here

Yeah

I'm 'bout to get my dance on

I'ma let me see how I do my dance

Yo

Let them hear that shit

[Woo]

(Oh, you want me..?)

My niggas be smokin isms

My niggas be stackin ones

My niggas be smokin isms

My bitches be wearin thongs

My niggas be smokin isms

My niggas be gettin it on

My niggas be smokin isms

[coughing]

Big L

Rest In Peace, baby

MVP

#1, baby

We love you, baby

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