lirik lagu le$ (boss hogg outlawz) - round table
[produced by chase n. cashe]
[verse 1: le$]
pearl white cadillac, that’s for my enemies
living out your raps, i’m the one that you pretend to be
mac-16s, ain’t no bars that can limit me
it’s about to go down, you feel that energy
smoked more drugs than y’all niggas done sold
f-ck up out my way dog, y’all niggas too old
y’all was at the club going broke in them bottles
i was at the crib getting head from a model
writing out my plans, gotta see it to do it
i know you far from a gangsta, you trying too hard to prove it
the funny thing about character is it’s easy to lose it
just like it’s easy to point it but ain’t easy to shoot it
feel like we starting a movement, a rebellion
i hear ’em yelling, they buying the shit you selling
where we going, no telling
i’m cooking, i know they smell it
my disputed, the people’s chant
[?] coming down that rant
rock solid, stone cold
stunting down [?]
since my time, now i’m f-cking up your
i come through slow, ride by with the seat back
nigga been the shit, give a f-ck about your feedback
[hook: young roddy]
clean nigga though i got it out the dirt
i’m burning that money like a germ
first things first, i’m making money like the first of the month
the boy big dog to them pups
i got it out the mud
i’m sorry love but ain’t no love without no glove
don’t k!ll my buzz when a nigga on that bud
it’s still f-ck a b-tch, f-ck the fuzz
you could find me in the cut with that lean in my cup
[verse 2: curren$y]
watching the news, make sure the heist went smooth
before we make another move, don’t call me
unless you calling me the motherf-cking war chief
lord of the fliest, highest, chef that
food for thought, too much for you to digest
walk the walk, pimp limp, high step
ball like walt frazier, every shot all net
ball like wall street with the joe stocks net
golds with the [?] my biceps
count my stash, roll back to the pad
roll my gr-ss, call over some -ss
joints burning slow but a nigga live fast
be the trillest night that that b-tch ever had
let’s not get into that
let’s get in that bank vault, start filling bags
fresh from the dealership tags got them haters feeling bad
[hook: young roddy]
clean nigga though i got it out the dirt
i’m burning that money like a germ
first things first, i’m making money like the first of the month
the boy big dog to them pups
i got it out the mud
i’m sorry love but ain’t no love without no glove
don’t k!ll my buzz when a nigga on that bud
it’s still f-ck a b-tch, f-ck the fuzz
you could find me in the cut with that lean in my cup
[verse 3: corner boy p]
i’m tryna make a dollar out of fifteen, a mill off of ten g’s
turn my cutless to a bentley
[?] we ain’t supposed to have things
they call me mr. icy all summer
you know i grind like no other
nigga pinky ring fluttered
all these chains on got my neck all smothered
i been running around like i been had a check
got the bright one just to give the rolly a rest
nigga hit my line like [?]
they used the word plug loosely, no type of respect
stacks from the floor up, acting a soda
b-tches doing lines off each other off the coca
ten chains on got me looking like a gold rush
balling like a [?] got your b-tch on a poster
little nigga like olajuwan when i post up
chevy fram hogging both lanes when i pull up
leaning while i pull her, smoking like a motor
you could ask my other b-tches, dig me like a shovel
and i’m tired of telling you it’s more than music
nigga you’re a fan like your b-tch, that’s amusing
i don’t care if she bad, you knows how i does her
scoop her in the coupe send her back in the uber
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