One Of Ours Part II

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Okay, one more time
You know, situation like this
Sometimes you know you gotta give back to the community
Gotta show these motherfuckers how to wipe them thangs off y'know?
Teach 'em a little something

Pick you up, off your feet like a forklift, but instead it's the four-fifth
Ragu red, your brain leaking them sauces
Like an, autopsy leaving 'em nauseous, when I aim at your bosses
Put a pep in that bop that you walk with
While my TEC spitting at reinforcements
I could never be a victim of the streets, I endorsed it
Spitting that real, y'all cowards just coughed it
Like fluids in my lungs, motherfucker, I'm more sick

You turn them hoes off, I put 'em on so they on this
You talk game grammar school, mines metamorphic
Them fools ain't killing nothin' in the club, they all bent
My intent is to sober that ass up, leave 'em all drenched
See what a few cups of liquor can offset
Got a little paper, I ain't stressing, they all press
Ain't selling records, they come at me for more press
When they realize it's real, them dudes out copping more vests
Better learn how to

Wipe, them guns off, get that money money
Wipe, a nigga smile, off ain't nothin' funny
Show, you motherfuckers, just how hungry you
Get, when your feet are touching (kid, a nigga hungry)
Wipe, them guns off, get that money money
Wipe, a nigga smile, off ain't nothin' funny
Show, you motherfuckers, just how hungry you
Get, when your feet are touching
Yeah, you wanna vibe

P Gunna, shots stay a come up
Out them hammers at light speed, make it a hot summer
In New York, New York a.k.a. Ground Zero
The Big Apple, with the worms in the middle (eww)
The White Castle, the Empire State
The home of that Time Magazine new face
Metropolis of the world, I'll show you where I come from
By how the cash stack, and how I make a gun bust
But look past that, and listen how a killer be
Imagine the concert, they dancin' on they seats

Shorty mad gettin' stained, she damn near about to faint
She never saw a grimy dirty nigga like, P
With mad diamonds in his chain, she tryin' hard not to blink
Don't wanna miss a thing, the song that we sing
Mad diamonds in his chain, she tryin' hard not to blink
Don't wanna miss a thing, the song that we sing (bang!)

Wipe, them guns off, get that money money
Wipe, a nigga smile, off ain't nothin' funny
Show, you motherfuckers, just how hungry you
Get, when your feet are touchin' (kid, a nigga hungry)
Wipe, them guns off, get that money money
Wipe, a nigga smile, off ain't nothin' funny
Show, you motherfuckers, just how hungry you
Get, when your feet are touchin'
Yeah, you wanna vibe

My niggas they can't stop us
Every since we got our hands on the AR's, the S, and the fresh choppers
All of them is filled to the top with the vest poppers
We can get it on with America's Best Coppers
Soon as the lead pop you, whoever don't make it
To the funeral or wake can catch you on Ted Koppel
I'm a rare thumper, you just a gay nigga
With a rainbow sticker on your rear bumper

They say life is short, death is longer
That makes it even harder to express my hunger
And I don't wanna polly y'all, I'm in a zone of my own
Sorta like Tom Hanks talking to that volleyball
A "Cast Away," I'll blast away
Fuck if you broke tomorrow, get cash today
And even though it's hard, niggas is on they job
It's the Ryders and the Mobb, before my niggas starve, we'll

Wipe, them guns off, get that money money
Wipe, a nigga smile, off ain't nothin' funny
Show, you motherfuckers, just how hungry you
Get, when your feet are touchin' (kid, a nigga hungry)
Wipe, them guns off, get that money money
Wipe, a nigga smile, off ain't nothin' funny
Show, you motherfuckers, just how hungry you
Get, when your feet are touchin'
Yeah, you wanna vibe



Credits
Writer(s): Jason Phillips, Kejuan Waliek Muchita, A Johnson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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