(Wycleff)
A-boy
Don't spill mah drink boy
Pull it
Now listen
(TI)
Grand hustle, homie
(Wycleff)
Everybody report to the floor
Dance floor
Wycleff
All hands on deck
(TI)
Boy you what it is
Ey ey ey ey ey ey ey ey
(Chorus)
I'm a real nigga homie
Tell 'em six fingas on me
Got a pistol
You don't want it
Boy, you know what it is
I'm way flyer
My pay's way higher
If they ever mention style
Boy, you know what it is
Bout That drama
You don't want no problems
Line up that Llama
Boy, you know what it is
Ey I get money
All I got is big money
This is all she get from me
Boy, you know what it is
Ey ey ey ey ey ey
Boy, you know what it is
(verse 1)
The wait is over, here we go again
I'm back in the play
I'll sell another couple mil'
And take it back to the "A"
Take that other couple mil' and put it back in the safe
Five cash for the crib
On the back of the lake
I'm a big crucial two steppa with the gat in the way
TI ain't in the street no more fo fo is what they say
We aint tryin when you see em boy you have to be great
Pistol hit ya in ya face your teeth'll have to be replaced
Thats if ya like it nigga trust me it wont hurt me to take
A hundred thousand to dem haitians you done heard it today
(Chorus)
(Verse 2)
Women sweatin when they see me Im apparently hot
Had the album of the year nigga grammy or not
Remember all day I used to stand in the spot
Wit two revolvers in my pocket pitchin handlin rocks
Now Im chart toppin there aint a car i aint got
Im the number 1 customer at my own car lot
you wanna know how much I make just Imagine a lot
Even though Im probly gettin more than you'd imagine I got
Listen close I need to know if you understand me or not
Because you're disrespectin me you and you're man will be shot
(Chorus)
(Verse 3)
Well from the king of the south to the king of the states
Ridin in a car you probly never seen in the states
No idea how much YAY I could bring in the states
Well you can get a hundred on for a million a day
Frank Lucas aint the only onw who made a million a day
But this is an american gangsta right here in ya face
You dont wanna see PSC or tha C wit a K
You think of runnin up or robbin that aint even the case
And just because you get away that dont mean its ok
You a dead man walkin and I mean it ok
(Chorus)
(Wycleff)
A-boy
Don't spill mah drink boy
Pull it
Now listen
(TI)
Grand hustle, homie
(Wycleff)
Everybody report to the floor
Dance floor
Wycleff
All hands on deck
(TI)
Boy you what it is
Ey ey ey ey ey ey ey ey
(Chorus)
I'm a real nigga homie
Tell 'em six fingas on me
Got a pistol
You don't want it
Boy, you know what it is
I'm way flyer
My pay's way higher
If they ever mention style
Boy, you know what it is
Bout That drama
You don't want no problems
Line up that Llama
Boy, you know what it is
Ey I get money
All I got is big money
This is all she get from me
Boy, you know what it is
Ey ey ey ey ey ey
Boy, you know what it is
(verse 1)
The wait is over, here we go again
I'm back in the play
I'll sell another couple mil'
And take it back to the "A"
Take that other couple mil' and put it back in the safe
Five cash for the crib
On the back of the lake
I'm a big crucial two steppa with the gat in the way
TI ain't in the street no more fo fo is what they say
We aint tryin when you see em boy you have to be great
Pistol hit ya in ya face your teeth'll have to be replaced
Thats if ya like it nigga trust me it wont hurt me to take
A hundred thousand to dem haitians you done heard it today
(Chorus)
(Verse 2)
Women sweatin when they see me Im apparently hot
Had the album of the year nigga grammy or not
Remember all day I used to stand in the spot
Wit two revolvers in my pocket pitchin handlin rocks
Now Im chart toppin there aint a car i aint got
Im the number 1 customer at my own car lot
you wanna know how much I make just Imagine a lot
Even though Im probly gettin more than you'd imagine I got
Listen close I need to know if you understand me or not
Because you're disrespectin me you and you're man will be shot
(Chorus)
(Verse 3)
Well from the king of the south to the king of the states
Ridin in a car you probly never seen in the states
No idea how much YAY I could bring in the states
Well you can get a hundred on for a million a day
Frank Lucas aint the only onw who made a million a day
But this is an american gangsta right here in ya face
You dont wanna see PSC or tha C wit a K
You think of runnin up or robbin that aint even the case
And just because you get away that dont mean its ok
You a dead man walkin and I mean it ok
(Chorus)
(Wycleff)
A-boy
Don't spill mah drink boy
Pull it
Now listen
(TI)
Grand hustle, homie
(Wycleff)
Everybody report to the floor
Dance floor
Wycleff
All hands on deck
(TI)
Boy you what it is
Ey ey ey ey ey ey ey ey
(Chorus)
I'm a real nigga homie
Tell 'em six fingas on me
Got a pistol
You don't want it
Boy, you know what it is
I'm way flyer
My pay's way higher
If they ever mention style
Boy, you know what it is
Bout That drama
You don't want no problems
Line up that Llama
Boy, you know what it is
Ey I get money
All I got is big money
This is all she get from me
Boy, you know what it is
Ey ey ey ey ey ey
Boy, you know what it is
(verse 1)
The wait is over, here we go again
I'm back in the play
I'll sell another couple mil'
And take it back to the "A"
Take that other couple mil' and put it back in the safe
Five cash for the crib
On the back of the lake
I'm a big crucial two steppa with the gat in the way
TI ain't in the street no more fo fo is what they say
We aint tryin when you see em boy you have to be great
Pistol hit ya in ya face your teeth'll have to be replaced
Thats if ya like it nigga trust me it wont hurt me to take
A hundred thousand to dem haitians you done heard it today
(Chorus)
(Verse 2)
Women sweatin when they see me Im apparently hot
Had the album of the year nigga grammy or not
Remember all day I used to stand in the spot
Wit two revolvers in my pocket pitchin handlin rocks
Now Im chart toppin there aint a car i aint got
Im the number 1 customer at my own car lot
you wanna know how much I make just Imagine a lot
Even though Im probly gettin more than you'd imagine I got
Listen close I need to know if you understand me or not
Because you're disrespectin me you and you're man will be shot
(Chorus)
(Verse 3)
Well from the king of the south to the king of the states
Ridin in a car you probly never seen in the states
No idea how much YAY I could bring in the states
Well you can get a hundred on for a million a day
Frank Lucas aint the only onw who made a million a day
But this is an american gangsta right here in ya face
You dont wanna see PSC or tha C wit a K
You think of runnin up or robbin that aint even the case
And just because you get away that dont mean its ok
You a dead man walkin and I mean it ok