Big Tymers - Whatever lyrics

rate me

Baller Blockin'

Nigga I don't give a fuck

When it's on, it's on

We got Baby, Lac and Stone

In this bitch

I'm a neighborhood superstar

I'll cook anything from a ki of coke

To a gram of that boyd

Niggas scoring glocks

Like brand new Hot Boy Reeboks

On my blocks stepping 'em up

With grams and rocks

If anything been scoring from me

It was ten a ki

I let my l'il round hustle

As long as they score for me

Look if I pull up on the block

Knowing the set was mine

No more hand-to-hand contact

I'm known for supplying

Since I opened up this set 'chere

This how it's gon' be

Ain't nobody selling shit nigga

Unless it's for me

All I know is crack slanging and block hanging

On the corner

Doing my thang

These niggas know my game

How I do my thang

Water whip I can't do

But whole thangs I slang

Now I'ma pay all my foot soldiers

And tell 'em stay focused

And front all the street hustlers

And keeping 'em posted

That white and that blue car

We call 'em the law

And the dirt that my niggas do

Is done in the dark

Got l'il whodie running water

And we 'bout to cook these quarters

The twenty under the seat

For my son and my daughter

The water hot enough

Start cooking these quarters

These niggas want it hard

And I understand

If I pull up dressed in all black

With a boot in my mouth

Cause a nigga didn't pay 'Lac

And I know that he sold out

Put something in my street sweeper

And run in his house

Knock a hole up out his pa chest

And a tongue out his ma mouth

A ki stashed up

And I'm gettin' 'em all

I got a stash put up

For the drought in the fall

Hot Boys vacating the pop

Talk can back shit up

The Feds call my 'hood a Payday

Cuz it's packed with nuts

Ghetto rich money stashed

In the mansions bruh

I got them kis

Ten a ki from Fresh and Atrice bruh

I know niggas think bad

Cause the people ride fast

I got 5 strikes

I'm going out with a blast

Cash in your life nigga

When you playing with me

I'll give you work

Break ya off ya face B.G.

Cadillac's the name I run with

So call me Seville

Push a platinum Escalade truck

With 20 inch wheels

Now the Jag you saw me driving

That's for everyday stuntin'

Loud pipes, big rims

So you can see when I'm coming

I don't give a fuck nigga

Ain't no rules in the streets

You know money come first

The other bullshit weak

I don't wanna hear no stories

About my cheese

You violate nigga

Your family gon' grieve

Headbuster Alva Stone

Ya heard me dog

And everytime ya heard my name

It was a murder involved

I just rap to clear my name

And smuggle bundles of that raw

Always rap so what you lames

Suburb and that car

Saratoga and I ride

I represent to the fullest

Ain't nobody pulling strangs here

Unless that I pull it

If a nigga put a hit out

Believe that I took it

In the cost Bible murders

Was ODing and bullets

All i know is gun slanging and head banging

Too many disrespected

And lived to sang it

Drop change like a motherfucker

Fuck them niggas

If a nigga outta line

Motherfuck that nigga

Type of nigga who'll bat a bitch

And then wait on her pa

Type of nigga who'll do a snitch

Broad day in the park

I'm one of them niggas that don't bring it

Still buy up the bulk

Like Rob Deniero, Rob Banks

And bang out with the law

Look here I come from the projects

And the ghetto streets

I'm cooking up whole thangs

'Till they hard like concrete

I fronted the O.G.s

A bag of that olzes

For niggas that don't know

I got something whodie

The same ol' nigga

Just a different game

Fuck bitches, tote heat

Things never gon' change

I'm the number one stunna

Nigga, Baby's the name

I like cooking crack

And watch how quick it come back

I rock a oyster-faced Roley

With the crust out bang

Ice cover the wrist whodie

Like I sprung my hand

I sport Prowlers, whips

With the T.V.s playing

Iceberg, Prada dick

Like here come the man

I'll pull up at Washington and Six

In a six

I'll slide out quick

Bet I could fuck any bitch

I push a lavender Porsche Carerra

Seat sprayed leather

The top goes off and on

To floss with the rainy weather

The seats they ain't customized

They made by Ricarro

A ruby red CF5

I'll cop by tomorrow

For catching me on the interstate drunk

Running the law

With a bitch in my lap

Tasting my balls

I don't like when they too much

Act like they stuck up

Leave Atrice nut up

I'll bat that bitch up

The king of the Nolia

I crowd both the wrists

Lock down slanging towns

Took the top off the six

In the club I be thugged

With ten topless chicks

T-shirt, Girbauds, Reeboks

In it

Killa, ain't no stopping it

Off top, can't pop this bitch

You know what I'm saying

Baller Blockin' you understand

New Edition of Cash Money

Some real Hot Boys

Believe it whodie