St. Lunatics - Show Em What They Won lyrics
rate me
Yeah, yeah, check, check
See I ain't about playin, Leezy 'bout cash in advance
Cash in on the casual, actual, factual plan
Makin a killin man, went from that to makin a livin
Rightous willin, the only thing supreme swimmin
And proceed, to not smoke weed around the seed
It's the new way, new life, peace true indeed, off T's
I dwell on off how y'all plan makin mo' money, so I had to buy a fly chain
Ran in this game, dirt broke, now it's MTV with Kurt Lod'
With the Q-four-feezy, be hurtin folks
Keep the bird toast, black handle, horoscope hood scandle
You the type of niggas puffin in shirts, socks and sandals
Keep the God in me, the Hova Ja knew Allah in me
Ball wit' me, don't tell 'em who saw when 'bout to squall wit' me
Fall wit' me, this pure mic dope I'm sellin
It's the man with mellow rap, felon, constantly yellin "yo ma!"
Uh, uh, uh, uh
What's it like bein Nelly, ay, let me break it down
It's like a shootout and you the only nigga wit' rounds
It's like a weed drought and you the only nigga wit' pounds
It's like a Freaknik and you got the only rubbers in town
I'm like a shoe-in, for the poster boy, the thug of the year
GQ style ma', let me put a bug in your err (ear)
Go tell ya man, he take a step, there went a slug in his err (ear)
Have 'em askin (yo, how the hell he get a gun up in here?)
(That's gotta be illegal, Bob!)
I can bring them chrome things for that drastic shit
Metal detectors, no problem, got that plastic shit
Witnessess, "I ain't seen 'em, they had masks and shit"
"Whoever it was, was in a rush 'cause they was fast and quick"
Oh, I'm just a playa, mo', these ain't my rules
Peep game, I'm wearin Jordans, summer these my shoes
I'm like the heir to the throne
Me and my niggas fastbreak through your home, get ya coach on the phone
Tell 'em "go'on"
Show 'em what they won, a short stay at the hotel, Bob
Show 'em what they won, Alize, Mo', Crissy or ale, Bob
Show 'em what they won, Murphy Lee, Key or Nell, Bob
Show 'em what they won, what, show 'em what they won, who
Show 'em what they won, niggas talkin shit get served, Bob
Show 'em what they won, two to the head, left on the curb, Bob
Show 'em what they won, leavin they mama's feelins hurt, Bob
Show 'em what they won, what, show 'em what they won, who
Show 'em what they won
Ay yo, Bob, they want Keyjuan, the one who gets the job done
Keep huns screamin "Keyjuan-na-na"
On the block I Rule like Ja, in the sun like Wa
Me and mine at the mall spendin grands like Cool Bob
See I'm a Ruger shooter, don't make me have to do ya
Boo-ya, you see what Lunatics'll do to ya
Tip-?? pursuer, get 'er in a room and do 'er
First cat out the Lou that you knew that
Wore a lime-green headband, matchin leather pants
Vokal t-shirt with some sparklin wristbands
This man, he keeps it real sweet
With somethin sweeter than sweet, puffin on Swisher Sweets
I'm unique like a blue cardinal bird without the beak
I'm deep, like bucket seats when the 'tics hit the streets
Pick door number three if your price is right
I'll pull a DJ Quik "tonite is the night"
Hold on, so I can tell 'em who I is, a young school boy with one kid
I think I'm five-eight, but yo, maybe I'm five-six
With my boots off, I prefer my booties in boots off
You get in my bed, you better take pants, shoes off
Now, and not right now but right now!
And I ain't backin down, she can get up and bounce
The Young Dude, quick to roll up an ounce and head south
Don't even have drive, I can sit on the couch
And wrap somethin, and put on a beat and rap somethin
They call me Mr. get all mad and smack somethin
I'm wild dude, you could probably find me on side two
If not I'm a holla like Ja Rule, get a dollar from my boo
And go and by a juice or somethin
A virgin rapper, I ain't gettin loose for nothin
Money earnin rapper, I ain't got no boots for nothin
So I'm servin rappers, I be cookin when I'm comin
