The Plug (feat. Kokane & Ab-Soul)
Yeah
Huh, hmm
Hard to believe I'm getting paid now from this rap shit
Tired of living out of them tellies, I've been a mac since
It's different when you really don't need it up out a punk bitch
She used to tell me all about her tricks, so tired of that shit
My stable full of stallions and paid my mortgage then paid rent
I don't even break 'em, just get 'em to do fly shit
Learned to stop looking for broke hoes, just find a rich bitch
Elevate your 'ism, the blade was making no sense
Knocked a few strippers I turned her out it happened real quick
But all these bitches really the same, it's how they gon' get
Some in-house and some will take trips
Some'll last long and some'll leave quick
Now my winter stay warm ain't seen it snow since March 6
Nigga, I'm the plug (aye)
Nigga, I'm the plug (aye)
I'm the plug (aye)
Nigga, I'm the plug (aye)
(Aye, man) I got what you need (nigga)
Alpha Beta hyphen, dollar sign owe you L's, hmm
That mean all I'm doin' is winnin'
Million dollar stipend, life ain't fair
Pay the fare or say farewell (oh well)
This big bad world don't owe you a thang, mane
You owe it to yourself
Used to ride the Carson circuit, it's no surprise I became the plug
Came up with the gang'nem, the players, pimps, and the thugs
Pop-out only when it's necessary, never superfluous
Was 'round the magazines before I talked to a journalist, word up
All I needed was five mics at The Source
We used to burn CDs, now, my whole circle lit
Guilty by affiliation
Shook the spot before the gang injunctions and raves
By the grace of God, all I do is beat the case
All I do is lead the race
They was running track and field
I run the track, and I'm still in the field, for real
Nigga, I'm the plug (aye)
Nigga, I'm the plug (aye)
I'm the plug (aye)
Nigga, I'm the plug (aye)
I got what you need
Push, dance to the season (yeah)
Alright, hit-squad is in the house
Yes, pull the camera right here - (hold on)
Alright now, we'll be alright
60 digits, falls out
Let's open up the whole pen and kiss ass, and kill 'em all
Let the paramedics sold them out, yeah
Raise the beacon stinger, grenade, boom
Huh, hmm
Hard to believe I'm getting paid now from this rap shit
Tired of living out of them tellies, I've been a mac since
It's different when you really don't need it up out a punk bitch
She used to tell me all about her tricks, so tired of that shit
My stable full of stallions and paid my mortgage then paid rent
I don't even break 'em, just get 'em to do fly shit
Learned to stop looking for broke hoes, just find a rich bitch
Elevate your 'ism, the blade was making no sense
Knocked a few strippers I turned her out it happened real quick
But all these bitches really the same, it's how they gon' get
Some in-house and some will take trips
Some'll last long and some'll leave quick
Now my winter stay warm ain't seen it snow since March 6
Nigga, I'm the plug (aye)
Nigga, I'm the plug (aye)
I'm the plug (aye)
Nigga, I'm the plug (aye)
(Aye, man) I got what you need (nigga)
Alpha Beta hyphen, dollar sign owe you L's, hmm
That mean all I'm doin' is winnin'
Million dollar stipend, life ain't fair
Pay the fare or say farewell (oh well)
This big bad world don't owe you a thang, mane
You owe it to yourself
Used to ride the Carson circuit, it's no surprise I became the plug
Came up with the gang'nem, the players, pimps, and the thugs
Pop-out only when it's necessary, never superfluous
Was 'round the magazines before I talked to a journalist, word up
All I needed was five mics at The Source
We used to burn CDs, now, my whole circle lit
Guilty by affiliation
Shook the spot before the gang injunctions and raves
By the grace of God, all I do is beat the case
All I do is lead the race
They was running track and field
I run the track, and I'm still in the field, for real
Nigga, I'm the plug (aye)
Nigga, I'm the plug (aye)
I'm the plug (aye)
Nigga, I'm the plug (aye)
I got what you need
Push, dance to the season (yeah)
Alright, hit-squad is in the house
Yes, pull the camera right here - (hold on)
Alright now, we'll be alright
60 digits, falls out
Let's open up the whole pen and kiss ass, and kill 'em all
Let the paramedics sold them out, yeah
Raise the beacon stinger, grenade, boom
Credits
Writer(s): James Jeffery Sidhoo, Rahkeim C Meyer, Jerry Buddy Long, Herbert Anthony Stevens
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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