B.G. - 6 Figure lyrics

rate me

It's me, the B.G., doin' my thang

Lettin' 'em hang, I represent bangity-bang

I gettin' off into shit you can not handle

I'm settin' it off in this bitch, thinkin' of scandals

'Bout my paper, 5 figures and up with the red beam

Dealers and thugs on my team with many 14's

Hittin' your home up, hittin' at everything movin'

Lookin' and losin', startin' chaos and confusion

I'm bruisin' your whole family, dress 'em up in dark colors

Then come to your funeral in two Hummers

That's me, Baby Gangsta, spark in the day

Come out the funeral home, you get hit at walkin' away

I'm in to grow, legend with rights, I don't been enticed

To greab the K and let it spray, put an end to a nigga life

My nigga TD gettin' high wit' me

Out that 13, straped up he ride or die wit' me

I was in the 'Nolia, lookin' for that killa guerilla

I know my nigga gangsta got it on wild willa

Uptown consist of drug dealers, and thugs

For the junkies got no love

It's like this, play pussy you catch a slug

Drug though the mud, once it's dead it's done

Hand on my gun cause I don't give a muthafuck

I'm a head buh-uh-busta, I never truh-uh-trust a bitch

Make sure I gotta silent 4-5, if this nigga snitch

Get me in the fix, and I can't snitch out the mix

Just gimme tree lives, double them so I got six

Ain't that some shit, wanna see me assed outta luck

Bet I ain't trippin', cause I don't give a muthatfuck

[Lil' Wayne]

I be catchin' a nigga corner, rippin' through a nigga street

Hot Boys they ride with me, like a preist, five deep

Windows tinted, clips extened, drum lettin'

Bustin' lead 'n, real 'n, Hot Boy$ don't forget it

Leave every porch wet 'n, brains all over the step 'n

Disrespectin' the whole neighborhood block wettin'

Step in, the section, uh-of the Hot Boy$

Full of the 'dro, and ride and chop you whole spot boy

Better watch boy, where you be at cause I'm a hit at, three flat

You want beef, I'ma beef at, make it hot, I'ma crease that

Camoflauge to the 'Boks, pop off clips in the glocks

Make sure all choppers cocked, start a quake, shake the whole block

Take the tip of the jo, kick down the front door

Run from front to back bustin', Terius cut his wife throat

I'ma play it how it go, hold a black connect sho'

We went to school for this, we spend bins like a pro

Go chill with the Joe, Say wodie let's get loaded

Blow a pound with my round, 50 shot'll get me toted

I'ma wet your bin, hit your house, unlock ten

Boy you can't win I let chopper bullets spin

[Turk]

Don't fuck with bitch niggaz, 226 bout the real

Them niggaz who paper chase, go in the dark and pack that steal

You ain't hear about the young thugs,

The Hot Boys, that's who the are

Run that shit blow for blow, hoes be bout catchin' that nut

Nigga don't think cause we young, we ain't ridin' or dyin' too

Down with black connection to the finish, we bout killin' niggaz too

Spend your bin quickly, make you suffer, die slowly

You hit enough, I'm about to down, play the scenery

Big ol' Expedition's, do some dirt in it tonight

Five choppers for who lost, kill a nigga, we just might

Bitch niggaz get left flat, like a flat rat in the street

Abunch of young head spliters, like K.C. and B.G.

Fuck the police, cause we spray them too

Pop the cop or go down, cause we ain't down with that crew

Get caught up in the crossfire, best believe It's All On U

+Ohh, it ain't my fault+, I done what I had to do

Give a fuck about no nigga, that nigga don't give a fuck about me

Any chance he get he gon' take it, try to sweep me off my feet

That's why I keep my eyes wide, nigga cross that line they gon' die

Leave your families clueless, and questionin' why

4-4 bull dogs bark loud, chopper moves crowds

Innocent bystanders watch out, them lil thugs act wild

[B.G.]

I'm a ride or die-er, smoke nothin' but that fire-ya

Keep all my hoes cause I'm a liar

Neighborhood uh-hotter that a toaster, ridin' MoMo's

and I'll roast a deal what's on my old poster,

if I pull it out my holster

You sopposed'a, respect a nigga like me

I'm gettin' closer and closer to the T-O-P

I'm H-O-T, bitches say I'm a D-O-G

I'm on surveilance all day be the S-P-D's

In my heart I feel, fuck the police

Cause in they hear they feel, fuck it,

try to keep a nigga off the street

Who? Not I, nigga, the trillest B.G.

Lots'a money, and the best attourney speak for me

And I speak and represent for the U.P.T.

I creep, and get bent with VL Street

I' slang heat, any day, noise I bring

Feel I can't be bat any day, I'm a Hot Boy, I let 'em hang

Far as they can, cause I'm a thug to the fullest

Pistol in my hand, trigga I pull it 'til there's no more bullets

I ain't the one to be repped on

Who whole block get stepped on

If they outside, when I'm ride, I'ma ride 'til there's no more gas

I'ma ride 'til I put you on your muthafuckin' back

I'm in all black, behind the skuh-uh-skimask

It ain't no way that you could last

I'm comin' like the task force, I blast with full force

I'm sorry if your grandparents on the porch

They All 'N

[Juvenile]

Even if I don't get no taller

I'ma always be a CMB baller, smokin' blunts in the hallway

I'm skinny yeah, weighin' 'bout 155

But believe I could tote a chopper, believe bitches could die

Now play with the man, full of that dope with a K in his hand

Don't want hear what'cha sayin' just don't be here when I sprayin'

How you gon' do it, we could handle that no secret

Boy, I'll put some change on you head take you off the street quick

Look, I got a Mack-90 that won't quit

I got clique foll of some njiggaz bout that funk shit

So what you want, get you dome split

You home hit, jeopardized

Niggaz spendin' a bin in camoflauge

I'ma top knot shot caller, from the clique CMB Ballers

Fuckin' niggaz daughters, got my shit sittin' on Brawlers

I'm mad boy, with this clique I'ma act a ass boy

It's cash boy, I don't think you could last boy

I'm bout to pull some out the hall type shit

Some Steven Seagal type shit

Some *cgghh* knife shit

Don't think you niggaz feelin' that 226

Behind me the crucifix, chop or get chopped, split or get split

Doogie, Lil Wayne, Lil Turk, Lil Terius, better tell 'em

These niggaz are felons, "HOT BOY" be which we yellin'

Right know you close to the devil, and your lip gon' get you hurt

Picture this, three ways gon' tear up your turf