feat.Bun-B, T.I.
(T.I. talking)
Jim Jones what it is homie
Killa Cam, Freekz Zeeky, Juelz whats happ'nin
Hey 'a aye... yea yea yea 'a aye
T.I.P. nigga y 'a y yeeah. Aye a aye
I'm up in Harlem to put it down wit my muthafuckin folks
Dipset bitch. A town to muthafuckin NY
nigga you already know what it is. Bankhead
C-rod, Grand Hustle, Diplomats
you dont like it kill yaself nigga. Lets go
(verse 1 T.I.)
Late night straight white fa ya base pipe
No mo quarter O's get ya weight right
Crack rock black glock kept it waist height (hey)
It hit ya mug you dont imagine what ya face like
American pie I'm tellin you guys
you want beef wit us well who the fucks preparin you guys
We sparin you guys get buried alive
What you rushin fa, act like you in a hurry to die
Some I let 'em fly 'fore I let that ride
I paralize ya like Supermans horseback ride nigga
Walk up on ya car and scorch dat ride
Flat tires, glass shattered wit a corpse inside
A town break down straight pounds of dro'
Still deal if you want 10 birds or mo
Pimp Squad, Dipset I know ya heard before
If we called you a bitch you deserved it hoe. Aye
(verse 2 Jim Jones)
I cop bricks of the crack (dat yayo)
And take it to my block, strip or my trap, my block strip is so trapped
Cops quick wit a strap, and you'll be scared shitless
How they where the big fifth and load up flares and biscuits
I'll take ya bitch from you, bring her back wit smeared lipstick (She Mine)
You can compare ballistics, but it's mere physics (Pimpin)
I'm 2-3's on drops, I used to play hoopties on blocks
plottin man like who he gon pop
In this tragic city, now I'm Bankheadin
4 tens headin down in ATL's Magic City
Yes the stash is pretty, and the mag hold 50
We take ova towns, then send the Rovers 'round
Lookin fa hoes to pound, ya local hoochie spot
Lookin fa hoochies hot, to get they coochie popped
I love the titty bars, I love my
