|
T.I. - Top Back lyrics
[T.I.] Haaaa... Mannie Fresh I got you nigga I'm gonna show these niggaz what to do with one of your beats I'm shutting the whole block down Here comes trouble homey I'ma tell you how the king like to ride homeboy [Chorus: repeat 2X] I like my beat down low and my top let back Can see me riding 24's with a chopper in the back Ya like ya Kenwood hot and ya top let back If ya rims sit high and ya windows pitch black [Verse 1] I'm the man in my city ain't nobody fucking wit me You can ask the real niggaz and all the bad bitches I'm a known drug dealer I always have 50's And the thugs and the killers was all in class wit me SS'S on 26's watching some television Shorty I'm never slipping got the berretta in vision And ready to pop the clip in, ready to get to tripping Ready to show these folks a celebrity pistol whipping Pimp stolen' the automobile and the roof for the tag missing Polices' try to pursue me it's nothing but gas given Addicted to fast living, guess I'm one of my dad's children Think I'm bad now shoulda seen me before I had children Give dick to ya daddy's daughter and dare her to have children? Hope he got some insurance 'cause death her ass is enduring? Kill her in Mississippi and drive her ass to Missouri Still my wet paint drippin' while I'm woodgrain gripping [Chorus] [Verse 2] I got this Pimp Squad Click I know you heard about us Young niggaz filthy rich and we ain't worried bout much On this glock I clutch In God I trust If a fuck nigga start bet his heart I bust Got ya partners and the broad in ya car fucked up What, ya under estimation thought a star wouldn't bust I got the heart and the guts on this purp I blow Move ten bricks daily tryin' to twerk five mo Ya see the Cadillac swerving down Hollywood Road On the flyest Spur in Cali fucking Hollywood Ho's On a pill and half with my partner Young Dro Bumping Goodie Mob Soul Food number fo Other rappers' old dudes told dudes I'ma pro With a loaded fo fo and a quarter brick of blow (Hey) nigga don't you hit me less you buying 6 or mo My 24 blades glistening and my 808 kicking [Chorus] [Verse 3] I wear the crown down under man somebody better tell 'em 'For I spit a hundred rounds and have everybody bailing I got some bitches in a Benz and my partners in the Chevy And now we riding Giovanni's and Asani's on Pirellis If ya ever think ya trying to run up on me just forget it The clip in the chopper long as ya leg and leave ya shredded Pistol way in the truck got my knife on tuck Ya think he ain't getting stuck you got life fucked up A couple stitches in ya hip will have ya night fucked up Will he live? Will he die? Guess he might luck up Meanwhile I'm racing my Ferarri like a light for a buck Against Lamborghini Gallardo everytime I get a car... [Chorus] |
|
Last added lyrics |
---|
All the Way by Calloway |
It Ain't What U Wear It's How U Play It by Another Bad Creation |
Pure & Natural by T-Connection |
Take Me with You by Honey Cone |
Twenty Four Seven by Tina Turner |