Ay Boy, Don't Spill My Drink Boy
Now Listen..（Grand Hustle homie）
Everybody report to the bloodclot dancefloor
Wyclef all hands on deck （you love the beat）
（boy you know what it is）
Ay, （brat）, Ay （brat）, Ay （brat）
Yo T.I.P, talk to them bloodclot
I'm a real ni**a Homie
Throw Six figga's on me
Got a pistol, You don't want it boy
You know what it is
I'm way fly-er
My pays way higher
If they ever mention sire boy
I got that drama
You don't want no' problems
Line up that lama boy
I get Money, all I count is big money
Think its all she get from me boy
Yo T.I.P, let them little rock boys know how you movin
（Boy You Know What it is）
The wait is over here I go again I'm back in the play
Gon sell another couple mill and take it back to tha 'A
Gon take that other couple mill and put it back in the safe
Five cash for the crib on the back of the lake
I'm up in Crucial 2 steppin with a gat at my waist
T.I. ain't in the streets no more foe-foe is that what they say?
Don't even try 'em when you see 'em boy you have to be great
Cuz this pistol hit you in the face your teeth youll have to replace
That's if you lucky trust me it won't hurt me to take
A Hundred thousand to them Haitians you'll be murdered today.
Yo T.I.P, some boy wanna playa hate,
Let em know who tha king of the south is!
Talk to em!
Well they sweatin when they see me i'm apparently hot
Had the album of the year ni**a grammy or not
Remember all day I used to stay at the spot
2 revolvers in my pocket pitch a hand of that rock
And now I'm chart toppin, ain't a car I ain't got
I'm the NO.1 customer at my own car lot
If ya wanna know how much I make just imagine alot
You know I'm probably gettin more then you'd imagine I got
Listen close I need to know if you understand me or not
If ya disrespectin me you and your man'll be shot.
Well from the King of the south, to the king of the states
Ridin in a car you probably never seen in the states
No Idea how much yay I can bring in the states
You can bet one hundred on it for a million a day
Frank Lucus ain't the only one to make a million a day
But it's a American Gangsta, I'm right here in ya face
And you don't wanna see P$C on the scene with a 'K'
You think you running up and robbin that ain't even the case
And just because you get away that don't mean its okay
You a dead man walking and I mean it okay.
I got a pistol
You don't want it
But You know what it is
My pay is way higher
If they ever mention sire
Boy You know what it is
About that drama
Goatta love that lama
But you know what it is
This is all you get from me
Boy you know what it is
Some of dem boys want to talk what dey have done.
They guns sound like popcorn.
***Lyrics are from third-parties***
Same Damn Time (Remix)
I'll Whip Ya Head Boy