THEODORE UNIT - Right Back lyrics

rate me

[Intro: Trife Da God (Solomon Childs)]

Yeah, ya'll (uh-huh) I would like to make a little announcement (whooo)

Knowwhatimsayin'? We got Theodore in the building (ya'll get ready)

Straight up and down (yeah) First up to bat (enjoy your classic)

Introducing (yeah) the one and only (whooo)

The magnificent (you know who it is)

Trife Diesel, nigga (yeah, come on) yo

[Trife Da God]

Aiyo, I'm sort of like a water pipe, I'm ready to blow

In a pair of three-fourth quarter Nike's, the color of snow

Listen here, sun, duel with my goons'll run through ya

For a little bit of change and exchange for some buddha

Heat movers, and they barely speak like preschoolers

And they hug the block all day, with them C-Rulers

Young niggas, ready and willing to clack them thangs

Straight out the nest, they just learned how to flap they wings

Now, all you niggas better pause for a sec

Know your claws run eject, when Theodore's on the set

Trife Da God, but for now on, just call me the barber

Cuz my hands they go to work like Antonio Tarber

Fuck shakin', my word got the fiends vibratin'

I ain't playin' fair this year, niggas is violatin'

I'm about to spaz out and start passin' out citations

Cuz niggas left the hood for good, now they high maintenance

You ain't gotta know the name of my band, but this flame in my hand'll

Put a quick somethin', change through your plans

Snatch you off stage, while you entertainin' the fans

And I don't show favoritism, do the same to your man, what

[Chorus x2: Trife Da God]

These niggas frontin' on wax

Don't make me push your shit back

In the hoods, ya'll don't pump like that

You'll get your shit pushed right back

[Kryme Life]

You know the kid got his weight up, now I'm tippin' the scale

I gotta eat, and my appetite is large as a whale

Got little niggas talkin' big shit, knowin' they frail

Fuck the rest, we the most, fresh niggas and steal

And I'm about to ring a lot of your bells, I'm at your doorstep

Grippin' the iron, bullets flyin' outta them shells

You think I'm lion, then ya'll niggas is gazelles

And I talkin' bout glasses, son, I'm on your asses

Put a hole in the back of your neck, right where your tag is

Slabs is like luggage, look how heavy my bags is

The ave, I'mma flood it, it's my time to cash in

Money good for the gettin', targets good for the hittin'

Blaow, me and Trife in the kitchen, cuttin' the mixing style

And no compares, to nothing, that ain't offici-al

Kryme, I got my stamp on it, got you amped on it

And I know what's gonna go, soon as I put my hands on it

None of ya'll mans want it, whether we on the corners

Or performin', battlin' with mics or straight warrin'

[Outro: Solomon Childs]

Whoooo... ahhh.. S. Child, Theodore Unit

The movie, you muthafucka