Like A Bird

Ugh! We dropped again on you bitch ass, niggas! (Laughing)
Every album like a bird!

If you buy Trill shit
Then you buy that real shit!
And the D.A. and the judge gone get it
If they don't free Pimp C, bitch!
And when I drop shit, it's hot shit!
You know I ain lyin'
I only gave y'all half the shit, but I got more in my mind!
If you heard that green and yellow cd
You bout love a lil nigga!
You a girl, in this thug world
You might wanna fuck a lil nigga!

I don't really give a fuck
About the fortune and fame
I want the money
So my daughter wouldn't have to beg, no mane!
I'm in the studio, daily nigga!
Wit my pen and my pad
Where I run rhymes about my life
And how I'm missin' my dad
Dedicated, to makin' these hundreds
I get paid for my shows
Niggas hate it, cause' my name
That's what takin' these hoes!
Thirty-six zones, on the fuckin shelf at the stores
Ya better get before it goes! ...And

Every album like a bird... steady flippin!
Every album like a bird!

My first album was bout a 7 (It was aight)
But I talk me some shit
About this world
About these girls
And how I dog, my bitch!
My next album was bootleg
Ain even come to the stores
Cause a nigga stole it
And they sold it for the price of some "O"!
Six months later, they heard that "For My Thugs"
The cd that have you niggas and bitches tearin da club up! Huh!

Ain nothing but raw rhymes
No flashy shit, just hard times!
Nigga don't wanna hear bout ballin
If he ain' got a damn quarter!
Ya hear me talkin'
But to see that ghetto D, that's real shit!
Cause I'm feelin' the power
Cause I get 5 G's, to be on stage, for a half a hour!
Shit, I heard... (Don't say no names) ... wanna holla!
I want 2 billion dollars
Not no million, you dick rider!

I got two 24, 80's dawg
They filled up!
With shit that'll make you get kill
Or even kill us!
Then I drop... huh!
Then I drop again!
And I get sicker every time
I touch dat fuckin' pen! ...And

Every album like a bird in a corner store
Keep it real boy
Trill got the good dope!
See grill, big bills, with a thick ho
About an ounce of that good dolja
We gone big blow!

Wanna beef, motherfucker?!
Ain no problem with that!
I barely hit you in ya chest
Made it come out ya back!
And while you put yo look on hard
I be rippin them tracks
And by the time it hit the shelves
I'll be gettin' it back!
So many niggas playa hatin'
So I'm totin a gat
Pistol grippin', steady waiting on a nigga to act!
That's how you livin' when you on
And ya got that crack
And wake up with a new bone
I can get left flat!

So fuck that, ride strapped
Give another nigga what he deserve
And I'mma keep a bad bitch
Cause I'm flippin' these birds!
Trill niggas bout to fuck it up
I know



Credits
Writer(s): Webster Gradney, Torence Hatch, Fred Joseph
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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