SOUTHSIDE PLAYAZ

SOUTHSIDE PLAYAZ - Back Up lyrics

rate me

You know what entice me, in this filthy world of balling

Fast cars stacks and thieves, with these bad bitches calling

And fucking these niggaz, on the buddy-buddy plan

Pulling all scams cross the line, where it's a hundred a gram

I got the world in my hand, that's just one of my plans

Coming back with stacks of thousands, wrapped up in rubberbands

Nigga we keep blood money, thug homies and set up mami's

Smuggling bundles in Hummee's, keep you blood clot dummies

Don't front me, or show me the stash bag

Cause when I'm starving out here, nigga I'm coming for that

So when I creep with the mack, you ballers won't see the ball

Better be teflon to the drawas, bulletproof walls and all

Mean while, I'm ease off you niggaz

'Fore I unload reload, calicoes my trigger nigga

How in the hell, is you gon fade a young Don

Knowing damn well, from dusk to dawn I get it on

They gon back the fuck up, (when we act the fuck up)

When these niggaz talking shit, (on the wall they tacked up) - 2x

See Clay-Doe a wig splitter, (Corleone a go-getter)

Together we made niggaz, (all about that six figgas) - 2x

Nobody move, nobody get hurt

Nigga cause I set it off, when the gun on squirt

Get my team see pay day, or expect beams from Clay-Day

When I squeeze off AK, click is screaming may-day

Four stars, Laf-Tex niggaz killers is way off

Scratching off and basis, for maximum pay off

Take em off the shit list, or you'll get yours

Be at your doors with 4-4's, spitting tips through your pores

Other words, better finish doing they chores

But this nigga you can figga up, the creep with no whores

And I know it's a lot of you niggaz, screaming fuck that nigga

And I forever tripping on my nuts, you can trust that nigga

And you jackers po' hustlas, keep the billers

Get the road burns and ledge earns, from the heater skills

Building my empire, bitch it's murder for hire

Going out in gun fire, Clay-Doe the live wire

It's gung-ho Mike D, paper getter Corleone

Clay-Doe the wig splitter, busting down millions

Now feel us (we killers), on some thugged out shit

When they act up (they back up), we reload the clip

Take trip from Cincinatti, (back down to Texas)

(use these hoes to stash yay), got fo' bags of 'rexes

Remote control pop spots, (in Yukons and Lexus)

(money so long we hauling), on the flat bed stretchers

They send they dogs to fetch us, (while we split down extras)

Surran-wrapped in bags caprice, and kayan pepper

Hit your spot dropping off, more blocks than Tetris

Fucking FED's on our tale, (but they'll never catch us)

We too slick with cash bags, fully loaded AR's

Pull up on your set catch wreck, way down your boulevard

Till that heart stop pumping on his chest, because he dead

I made sure of that when I pulled up, put one in his head

They gon back the fuck up, (when we act the fuck up)

When these niggaz talking shit, (on the wall they tacked up)

Get this song at:  amazon.com  sheetmusicplus.com

Share your thoughts

0 Comments found