trick ass bitch'll wish He never met me So be warned my scorn is what you saw there Be down or be gone Let's get it on there Turn of the century Age
my niggaz at, where my bitches at?) (Throw yo' guns in the air!) Friends.. (my ghetto love song, it goes on and on and on and on) Let's be friends (where
in reversal world The ipod, no God, zero circle world The blow-a turtle world, smoke from the purple world The killer murder world, hamburger murder world
club on and throw a couple dollars on a Dancer So don't hastle me, just leave me alone, quit callin my phone You say you an independent woman, then stand on
sip on Henny I hate it when my pockets on skinny But shit happens If you don't stay on top Tryin' to bubble not pop Like gats on New Years down in
homes going for the two point conversion I'm so hood that Ludacris should have been on the original version But this is the remix With the cheap tricks
trick ass bitch'll wish He never met me So be warned my scorn is what you saw there Be down or be gone Let's get it on there Turn of the century Age of
make chedder like Pac, it's all eyes on me My destination is the top, I won't be denied I'm a thuglord tricky with words, and only puffs on the stickiest
in the club on and throw a couple dollars on a Dancer So don't hastle me, just leave me alone, quit callin my phone You say you an independent woman, then stand on
the game on a high note, flow opera Pusha still got them KIs I can unlock ya See that watch on the sleeve? Call it show stoppa Nigga ball around the world
The trick ass bitch'll wish He never met me So be warned my scorn is what you saw there Be down or be gone Let's get it on there Turn of the century Age
