I once knew this brother
Who I thought was cool with me
Chilled out together
Even went to school with me
Fly nigga my ace boon coon
Used to low ride together
Shot dice in the bathroom
Ya want trouble?
Well trouble ya found
Cause we diss ya then issue
The critical beat down
He needed money
I would always come through
Needed a car? He could use mine too
But bust this!
Out on the street
People say he was riffin'
Callin' me a sucker
Talkin' bout how foul I'm livin'
Someone heard him
Poppin' that shit last week
Frontin' for some pussy
>From some big butt freak
Sayin' I'm his worker
I was on his dick!
Talkin' that craazy old weak assed shit
and after all of that
She still walked away
How ya gonna diss your boy
To get some play?
And when I stepped to him about it
He said, "Who snitched?"
CHORUS
Yo, how did he go out?
He went out like a bitch!
So ladies
We ain't just talkin' bout you
Cause some of you niggas
Is bitches too!
I knew this brother named Mitch
Stone player
He meet a girl, in five min. he lay her
Trucked crazy jewels
Hands smothered in ice
Been to prison not once, but twice
Kept a stupid thick posse
Made of thugs and
Crooks and hoods
and vet hustlers
Who were up to no good
But they all stood behind him
and watched his back
That's the only way
To roll on the track
But yo,
Mitch got rushed by feds last week
The snatchbared the runk
Of his white Corniche
Took a look inside
And what did they see?
Two keys, and a gallon of PCP!
Oh shit! The thought crashed
Mitch's subliminal
Three strikes, that's called
Habitual criminal
So insted of goin' under
He snitched on his whole posse
Maxed at the crib
And sipped Martini and Rossi
Sold out his wh
