Grand Daddy I.U.
Grand Daddy I.U. - Low Key lyrics
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Ogash Mister U Dad pon di case .45 along di waist Police, snitches gwan get shot in-a dem bloodclot face Ya see I mean? O-o-ogash Watch out Yo, I'm on the down low, cops wanna know how I'm gettin paid So they send snitches wired up with hidden tapes Steppin to me to make a purchase But I ain't sellin jack, so the trap is worthless Doin what I do, waitin to smoke me But I'm all about dough, that's why my flow is low key You see me today, I'm in a slick black Benz Tomorrow a hooptie with mitch-match rims And windows tinted and dark-ass glasses Drivin around collectin money in masses When I make my runs, it's done on a q.t. That's how it gotta be when I'm out gettin lucci I keep it on a quiet storm, word is bond Makin sure that nobody's informed You ask is my business legit? Flip 'low key' around and see what you get I'm low key, y'all Yo, I'm in it for the fortune, let the next man have the fame For 10 long years I been down in the game I slung when I was young runnin block to block Sellin cooked up rock, and ain't never got knocked ??? when I used to sport Lee's And I thought G's how to transport ki's But one thing I learned from the day I got on That's when you start tryin to play large you get up gone Either in jail or your head laid to rest But I was game tight, cause I learned from the best To never tell my dirt in the street to no bitch And don't trust a friend, cause he could be a snitch I hustle from Hempstead to Queens and Delaware Cops takin out my spots, but I'm never there From state to state I sling ki's and g's, and Blow like the wind and keep on breezin Take the money and run like a bandit Leavin the chick I was with at the hotel stranded Off on a midnight run, fully equipped A full tank of gas, and a extra clip Bullet-proof vest, a ski hat to match Briefcase full of dough, and no strings attached I'm low key, y'all Yo, a kid makes a drop, then bounces With a package that's short 'bout 4 1/2 ounces So I made a few calls Now he's scrapin his balls off the projects walls I went to make his girlfriend bleed And found her in the alley in the back of a crackspot, o.d.-ed I shot the bitch anyway So what if she dead, if I ain't kill her, her ass still gots to pay And yo, that's word to Miz Whoever get fast gettin blast, and I don't care who the fuck it is It could be Jesus Christ But if he violate, I'm tearin down the gates and shoot his ass twice I ain't takin no losses So I'm out to get mine and don't care what the cost is Yo, I show no affection I snap necks and then flex in every ghetto section From point A to point B flippin ki after ki And then watch the cops watch me I see em lookin dead in my face From a third-floor window in a project staircase But they don't know that I'm aware See, I knows the drama, and I ain't tryin to get caught out there So while they actin like spies My troops is at the backdoor, ready to organize I tell em wait for the cue When you hear the horn blow, then go head and do the do I wave and let the cops know I see em Flash a mad fat knot, and then hop in a B-M Now the troops know what's on So I give the cops the finger and smile and blow the horn And watch the troops bumrush the door Ready for war, guns in hand, headed straight for the 3rd floor ??? on the steps The papers read '3 feds found dead and no suspects' And I'm still in the mix Slingin mad bricks, puttin chumps in a 226 I wink, and my heart is stone cold Do whatever it takes to get papes, that's how I roll And yo, I'm low key, y'all