Songtexte: Young Buck. Buy Your Dope From Me.

(feat. Sosa & Hi C)

Yeah, yeah, yeah oh yeah yeah

[Intro: Young Buck]
Its colder than muhfucka outside..
I gotta get this money though, fuck that

[Chorus: Sosa]
Row, row, row, ya boat (slow)
Slowly down the street (yeah)
Smokin' mary, mary, mary, mary
Come and buy your dope from me

[Verse 1: Sosa]
I hit my first lick, must've been the seventh grade
I came up on a chunk, I bought a coat and pair of J's
And I aint feel bad about it, on the block it was the way
I had to bend the rules a bit, I was tryin' to eat with snakes
Bought a pack, paid my momma's light bill in about a day
You just witnessed the plubs introduction to the game
Twenty five birds on the counter shit ain't changed
My Mexican been lettin' me get them chickens to the thang
I'm smokin' somethin' exquisite ridin' tinted in the Range
That is lookin' just like Buck chain and his ring
Spinnin' through the city watchin' menace feelin' king
Jada Pinkett ridin' with me, lip game insane
Man

[Chorus: Sosa]
Row, row, row, ya boat (slow)
Slowly down the street (yeah)
Smokin' mary, mary, mary, mary
Come and buy your dope from me

[Verse 2: Hi-C]
Sandwich bags, some Pyrex and some cocaine
Follow me as I take you to the dope game
I got felonies I can't get a nine to five
Quarter chickens.. five Gs now thats time for five
I can't fuck with homeboy I heard he would tell
All black Geneva scales
Dope under my fingernails
Hot water, abra-kadabra, ready rocks
I spray your plastic Glock
Candy red Chevy drop
Flood this motherfucker, coke all on every block
Tryin' to be number one like the chain that Nelly got
White square blocks like a baseball field
Erase all fielders, the south, Eightball pills

[Chorus: Sosa]
Row, row, row, ya boat (slow)
Slowly down the street (yeah)
Smokin' mary, mary, mary, mary
Come and buy your dope from me
Please
Row, row, row, ya boat (slow)
Slowly down the street (yeah)
Smokin' mary, mary, mary, mary
Come and buy your dope from me

[Verse 3: Young Buck]
I got my hooptie on hub caps postin', they lookin' for twenty fours
They pullin' niggas over that look like they gettin' dough
I stop at the store, to get some zip-lock bags
I got a jar full of dro, I got to get rid of that
You know what they doin for, ain't no need to ask
And if your only buyin' one, I don't need your cash
Homie, just stay in your weight class and get you a safe stash
Whip it, whip, it, whip it, whip it, nigga then break the glass
These hoes will tell on you, I'm tellin you the truth
And if a hater try to rob you I'm tellin you to shoot