[Intro]

Hey yo dogs for real?

I'm yo' man but you got the address up

'cause now you got chicks talk' "What the fuck"

"What the fuck" "what the fuck"



[Mase]

You know somebody swung on me & cut me?

(Come on come on come on)

You know somebody pulled a gun on me or robbed me?

(Come on come on come on)

Is they stoppin' my money? (Hell no)

(Come on come on come on)

Then it ain't no problem here

(Come on come on come on)

c'mon I ain't wit that man

(Yeah, what, what)

Just throw my be back on



Yo, yo, yo

You know my mission ain't complete

'Till I hit the city with a 600 Jeep

Hardest nigga from All Out you want to meet

Hash in the dash with heat under the seat

Chased Kate 52 states straight

But still ain't nothin' sweet

I took a year off to let the young nigga's eat

Everybody wit' me want bucks

Walk around platinum linked up

With money like Brink trucks

Shit get too hot? Puff, put the minks up

Come back in the summertime like fuck it, it's summertime

All Out tattoo's over wife beaters

Get mail Branson, never buy reefer

Bentley five seater, it's all for real

First rapper to close down a mall with a mil'

The clothes, the hoes, the cars that flaunt

Plus the money so I'm on nigga one

Talk to me



1 - [Total]

If you don't fuck with me

Like I don't fuck with you

It ain't much for us to talk about



'cause you don't fuck with me (Yo, yo, yo, yo)

And you know I don't fuck with you

So all I can say (uh uh)

Is stay out my way



[Mase]

Don't take much to wake up, taped up

Fuck the district, I live in Jacob

Hit a nigga, bitch nigga, kiss and made up

See me without Puff, try to get your weight up, uh

Ain't nuttin' between you and me

And on the real, nuttin' you could do wit me

I got cats that'll find you and leave you

Pull that hoodie over your head

And put five in your Caesar

Doubt me now and die a believer

Run and catch bullets like a wide receiver

When the war's on, put your gloves and your Gore's on

Teflon hard hat nigga, put it all on

Beef no more that's what other nigga's for

I got a fam' that love to go to war

Love to get locked up, love pickin' the odds up

Love not comin' home, love to be boxed up

I'm from a town where kids could pop up

Little punks in garbage bags, body all chopped up

I'll come around your block knowin' you got popped up

Arms are rocked up, Bentley wit' the top up

Uh, you don't stop, come on



[Repeat 1 while: ]

What, what, what

Yeah yeah yeah what what what

You don't like me nigga? (What the fuck?)

You want to fight me nigga? (Huh? huh?)

Stop frontin' nigga (You frontin' nigga)

Uh



[Mase]

Yo, one, two, three, four

Everybody on the floor

You see grams, I'mma see craters

By the time you see land I'mma see acres

Drop another CD just to see paper

And before you see me you'll see the maker

All I see is more chances, more advances

More houses, no spouses, more beaches

Wild thugs around me and no leechin'

When they gun's out played, there'll be no reachin'

Ballin' in Dirty South wit' no creases

And all I see is more F-in' iced out Jesus pieces

The rock over Sean John fleeces

You never love the money like we love it

Pay the chick sucka, and let her teeth touch it



All Out

Bad Boy forever

The Movement

What



[Repeat 1 ]

[Repeat 1]

Writer : COMBS, SEAN/BETHA, MASON/LAWRENCE, RONALD ANTHONY
Copyright : Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, Universal Music Publishing Group, UNIVERSAL MUSIC MGB SONGS