Radio

This is dedicated to the G’s
The B’s, the C’s, niggas that’s in the P’s
I guess this ain’t somethin' for the radio
But I’m hot, so I’ma make these muh’fuckas play it though
I wanna shine
Nigga, don’t make me result to crime
I guess this ain’t somethin' for the radio
So they made me go, right back to the street
My old head went to bed croaked over the liquor
His attitude leaked out all over a nigga, I love him (woo!)
It made me harder, made me smarter, I’m young and I’m thuggin'
Enemy to your baby father, the one that they muggin'
Therefore they rather see a nigga plug him
'Cause the hoes dug him, dig him, I line 'em up and get 'em (uh)
Then I forget 'em 'cause I don’t babysit 'em
If he’s on a booty call, he got the .380 with him (yeah!)
If he’s headed to the mall then it’s in Mercedes driven
Know the P green storm with the color of marijuana
I won’t follow the rules, I rather do what I wanna
Stand out like a Bent' on the avenue in the summer (uh uh)
I was low in the cabin, had the view of the lumber
Think about the has-beens mad I’m doin' my number
When I leave out the spot, I drag a few in the Hummer
Brrrat up? You’re now rockin' with the Boy Wonder (YEAH!)
This is dedicated to the G’s
The B’s, the C’s, niggas that’s in the P’s
I guess this ain’t somethin' for the radio
But I’m hot, so I’ma make these muh’fuckas play it though
I wanna shine
Nigga, don’t make me result to crime
I guess this ain’t somethin' for the radio
So they made me go, right back to the street
Uh, yeah
1982, the year I came through
I saw, exactly what I’ve been tryin' to show to you (woo!)
Or, you can put your seat belt on, I’ll take you to (where?)
Where the hood’s the arena and the block’s the pay-per-view
I’m a re-up nigga, but they love me everywhere
A soldier, yeah, without the military gear
I’m the flower of the year, and I rap like I ain’t rich
We all know the kind of respect that Banks gets
I’m frostbit, 50 grand on the bracelet
That’s a quarter a piece, I’m so close I can taste it
Run up on me ya hat and ya head is blown
Laid out on ya neck as flat as a herringbone (yeah)
All I need is a pitch, I’m battin' and headin' home, uh
I’ll fly ya head out the park soon as you start
You big as a pound puppy with a whole lot of bark
You either half crazy or got a whole lot of heart, nigga
This is dedicated to the G’s
The B’s, the C’s, niggas that’s in the P’s
I guess this ain’t somethin' for the radio
But I’m hot, so I’ma make these muh’fuckas play it though
I wanna shine
Nigga, don’t make me result to crime
I guess this ain’t somethin' for the radio
So they made me go, right back to the street, yeah