Stay Out Of My Way

Hey yo, dogs, for real?
I'm yo' man but you got the address up (yeah, yeah)
'Cause now you got chicks talk (what the fuck?)
(What the fuck? What the fuck?)

You know somebody swung on me and 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? (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 B back on (yo, yo, yo)

You know my mission ain't complete 'til I hit the city with a 600 Jeep
Hardest nigga from All Out, you wanna 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 (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Plus the money so I'm on nigga one
Talk to me

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)
And you know I don't fuck with you (yo, yo, uh)
So, all I can say is stay out my way (uh-uh)

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 cash that'll fund your leave
You'll pull that hoodie over your head and put five in your Ceasar

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 and run your block, knowin' you got popped up
Arms are rocked up, Bentley wit' the top-up

If you don't fuck with me (uh, you don't stop, come on)
Like I don't fuck with you
It ain't much for us to talk about (what, what, what? Yeah, yeah, yeah, what, what, what?)
(You don't like me nigga?)
'Cause you don't fuck with me (what the fuck? You wanna fight me nigga? Huh? huh?)
And you know I don't fuck with you (stop frontin' nigga, you frontin', nigga)
So, all I can say is stay out my way

Yo, one, two, three, four, everybody on the floor
You see grams, I'ma see craters
By the time you see land, I'ma 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 playa, 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 (yeah)
Pay the chick sucka and let her teeth touch it (yeah, yeah, yeah)
All Out, Bad Boy forever
The movement, what?

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
And you know I don't fuck with you
So, all I can say is stay out my way

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
And you know I don't fuck with you
So, all I can say is stay out my way

If you don't fuck with me
Like I don't fuck with you



Credits
Writer(s): Eric T. Sadler, Ingrid Julia Chavez, Lenny Kravitz, James Henry Boxley Iii, Carlton Douglas Ridenhour, Madonna L. Ciccone
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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