(Turk) --Bout whateva u bout nigga all day and all night 4(Wayne)--Look here man I ain't scared to lose my life *(Turk) --Bout whateva u bout whateva
Übersetzung: Hot Boys. Bout Was.
Turk] Bout whateva u bout nigga all day and all night [4: Wayne] Look here man I ain't scared to lose my life [Turk] Bout whateva u bout whateva u want
my fresh bows on, ree's on my feet Hoes love when I'm thuggin in my fresh white tee I'm 'bout whatever; Gizzle is a G We could do it however, it don
tha game raw nigga What what Huh huh What Hot Boy$ play tha game raw nigga Hot Boy$ play tha game raw nigga Hot Boy$ play tha game raw nigga Hot Boys
that line Do it I'ma feel you ain't respectin' my mind I gets loose, backed up, with long toys It's no truce fuckin' with these hot boys Do whatever it
I leave ya Believe in me and my click, hit ya block erasin Leave ya thoughts wastin, I run a hundred miles paper chasin I'm 'bout drama, foolishness, whatever
, we got whole thangs for half a sell F.B.I. tryin to nail, but our click covered up smooth Whatever you do, or how you do, it's all on you Hot Boy, 16
a freaky-deaky friend for me! [he comes back on the phone] I'm back, baby, sorry 'bout that thing But my boys let me know I was next on the cellular
clock And the party won't stop, bout to hit the IHOP Got twenty inch mirrors rollin under the drop So clap that shit up y'all and make it hot [Chorus
than all this Blood is thicker than all this, blood is thicker than all this [Mase] I'll be whatever you call this I'm Cash Money like them Hot Boys
who say whatever No peckerwoods or oreos, be stoppin' this fella Your prosecution's a crock! And us young bucks got 'em hot With blue troops in blue
Northen Boulevard I got my route down packed, I'm about my stacks And my mouth don't chat, I let my bout-bout clap But I ain't with that though, I'm
: Let's go I'm bout to murder this shyt I'm bout to murder this shyt It's ya boy weezy BABY Holla Ay ay Bitch I'm down for my squiddies and I ride for
the party won't stop, bout to hit the IHOP Got twenty inch mirrors rollin under the drop So clap that shit up y'all and make it hot [Chorus] [R
you're gonna get perverty Then make sure you bring back A freaky-deaky friend for me I'm back, baby, sorry 'bout that thing But my boys let me know
this wasnt posed to come out They let that new drug out, they let that new drug out My niggas bout to dumb out, my ladies bout to bug out And if her bop
flag can't hold my baggys sag 7 1 8 to omega Black motion is ocean style Slick in my ways since days of the classic Now glamour boys want to be triple
