(Lil Jon) Yeahhh! Yeahhh! Yeahhh! Yeahhh! Check this out (What's Up?) It's your Motherfucka Boy Lil Jon (That's Right) BME Click (yeah!) represent right (yeah! Yeah!) Now IIIIII just got to get some shit out my chess (let it out) It's a lot Fuck Nigga been talking shit bout me ,(fuck) fuck but you know what? Pussy Nigga I Don't give a fuck I'm a Real Nigga, Real Nigga Handle His Motherfucka bizness like my nigga about to do right now
Verse 1: (Bezel) Whateva Bezel give ya goin be fi yi yi Drop some acid in ya drink make ya see ta da I don't care if my girl just a leg n' a thigh She better spread her thighs let me hear her ayi yi yi They say if you wait a little while good things'll come Drink come get yours but you blink and it's gone Patient dude I really can't wait that long Been layin fools down way before that 8ball song I Like that benze go ahead and run that man Boy you'ze a ho I think you jwanna man It's not your boy from D12 It's ATL One of the sickest dudes out they like ain't he well Adamville ain't changed It's still the same They thought knockin' ??? would stop the cane Boss the plane they livin' on fantasy island Double move if a quake made Atlanta Island
Verse 2: (Don P) This ya boy Don P AKA get away from me I don't play I just ride How they gon' see nigga I don't hide Never had a watch so I never had the time Always had money but I stayed on the grind Girls give me head so I gotta million miles World's most wanted I done did a million crimes Gotta be (established?) that I'm twice platinum Gimme some space nigga back back some Ain't really smart but ain't that dumb ????? nigga you can keep it crunk I don't drop hits nigga I drop bombs Forget bein' a star nigga I'm a fuckin' sun Nigga lookin' at me talkin' 'bout it's all good Kings of crunk nigga comin through yo hood bitch
Verse 3: (Black Boi) See I ain't come to play I came to spit bars inside cars To let you niggas know where I stay 285 way don't miss the byway On my high way Eastside we on that remi and that purple 'round my way Okay boy now let me spit it's Black Boi On this here and boy I'm real wit this shit I rip drawers off take yo balls off Cuz you knew before you came in my room girl you was so sawed off Was I wrote off? Oh Nooo I was strapped at it bitch Before you close the door now dats fa sho We on that dro when you get up out my car bitch don't slam my door Motherfucka
Verse 3: (Dirty Mouth) ATL is my home And know my hip keep that chrome For the ones who talkin' shit They better leave me alone I ain't playin' no games I'm just out for this fame Gettin' this money is how I see ya gettin' blow from the jane Keep your distance I'm 'bout to start movin' this chain This hollow tip gon' be rainin' on the top of ya brain Hot like lava I'm loadin up this chrome problem solva So watch ya back 'cause here I come dropin' bodies like bombers This smith n wessen is gonna teach you haters a lesson All you niggas keep on stressin how we smoke up the essence This herbal session just keep a nigga full of confession So while I'm diggin' in your purse I keep that heat for protection Now gimme your loot This motherfucka gon' make me pimp shoot This motherfucka think I'm plannin' think I'm roody like poo You think I'm gravy I told you boys don't play me for lame This motherfucka that wanted to listen I took his ass out the game bitch
Verse 4: (LA) T-R-Y M-E pussy nigga Lil LA off in this bi*ch Ready to bust yo fuckin' shit Bitch rich nigga if you wanna talk that bullshit Gon' hate I ain't stun ya runnin' up I'll get ya split From the bottom to the top Top to bottom you will go Naw ho I ain't the nigga to be fuckin' wit fo Sic 'em git 'em split 'em hit 'em Tear that nigga ass up I kill for fun mayne and I ain't jokin mayne What's up back up fuck nigga Who you takin to Yeah scary ass nigga we comin' for you If you wanna talk shit better be prepared To live and die in the motherfuckin' ATL yeah
Verse 5: (Yo Gotti) Ain't nothin' like a good ass whoopin' to set it off Come how you want it bitch and ya pussy ass off Them little niggas ain't gon' fight So I'ma shoot first Big nigga wanna tustle so put them hands to work Decatur want it Decatur ready Decatur dead in the end Ho click mo bitch than a ??? Chyna and fate wishin yo bi*ch ass dead Crunker then a dog in the south west gate I got h*** shakin they ass I got it made Real bed bust head with a work and the mail What's that smell ya dead ass in a hotel No evidence cuz the gun in the chair Cramp in my leg from sittin in the car and waitin Lil Jon and the esb finna put they hands on ya Got claim on yo life the hitman I be You want the job done just holla at me, yeah
Verse 6: (Bo Hagon) I can't feel the ground the beneath me one of these hoes is down to freak me Haters they shoot rounds to leak me Have my family sittin' 'round to weep me Life as a hustla an everyday struggler tryin' to double up And I ain't a fuckin' juggler if you ever try to trouble us Better knuckle up The streets they know what it is They know what the fake they know what the real They go for the kill do what you feel hop in the 'lac flash ya grill Show your gold throw your bows Stay on ya toes and don't trust these hoes Play ya part and do ya thang Always put money before the fame
Verse 7: (Lil Bo) Y'all niggas don't wanna see me Runnin' 'round here hatin' on me Wanna know what I do wit my cheese '84 Silerado Chevy Now I can buy that nine eleven And I can get that Escalade Bout to hit the corner pop the trunk and let that thang spray Reppin that GA decatur's where I stay Nothin but real niggas and bitches out here 'round my way Lil Bo I be that nigga quick to pull a trigger An' put some lead in the head of a fuck nigga
Verse 8: (Big Sam) Woke up this mornin nigga With a pump and my hand on the trigger Had a dream last night I was bein' hated on by a bunch of these fuck niggas These niggas done made me slip now into my alias now Coup de gras SWAT officers and all these haters and these niggas right now Frankly I'm hot and pissed This shit is ludacris Same niggas you grew up wit nigga Same niggas get they wig split So keep flexin' and talkin and get your ass whipped Motherfucka you must not know who you fuckin' wit I'm DJ 64 that nigga XL Big Sam sayin' this shit to let you know what's real You bitch bitch ho ho Ass ass nigga nigga
We Ain't Playing Money Slingin justifying Gangsta ridin More Rich them shit i'm just singin ATL ain't fucking playing.
Compositor: Lil Jon & The Eastside Boyz Ft. Various Artists