Plies
Plies - Letter songtekst
Je score:
Aye bae I need you to type This letter real quick It's tuesday 4:24 a.m. I got a few things I wanna go over and discuss I wanna send a copy to the industry Let these niggas know how I really feel I hope there's enough Ink in this motherfucker Make sure I got enough v.s.o.p. Make sure I got enough reefer Cause I'm a be here a minute It's gon be a long night Think I'm in the wrong place Thought I was in The music business Lotta you niggas doin music But ain't nobody doin business Everybody want favors Who you niggas fuckin kiddin? My brother went to prison nigga Ain't none of you niggas Fuckin visit A nigga want me on his album Take care of fuckin business Paper work, artist splits That's how you know the Business finish Labels got you niggas fooled Got you thinkin it's y'all pennies A lotta you niggas is music whores Cause y'all niggas don't get it I don't understand you niggas though Cause all I hang Around is bitches Soon as you make a bitch mad First thing she do is twist it A bitch don't get what she want Sencond thing she do is flip it Fuck niggas tell lies Real niggas pay attention Two niggas beef with me One hot, one isn't No awards, filthy rich Guess what? ain't trippin Ol g's og Cause them niggas Control their feelings Killers kill and killer don't Tell you niggas that they killin A nigga that tell the story first The nigga don't pay No fuckin tention Niggas lie for one reason: To boost they motherfuckin image You hear a nigga droppin names The project comin out in a minute The only name's you niggas say The one that the streets feelin You want street cred? You got to go in the streets And go an get it And niggas that talk the most shit The main niggas That ain't authentic The rar rar nigga He the same nigga In court snitchin The game real simple homey It's all talk and no killin A bunch of niggas that sit around And try to come up with gimmicks If you was real homey You'll know what's real And what isn't Ain't never rapped about A nigga in prison That I ain't went and fuckin visit 3 albums and ain't drop One name still with it Told you niggas from day one "pussy nigga, I ain't friendly" Real niggas can't be emulated And y'all try to fuckin bill it I keep my eyes on you niggas And fuck with you From a distance My principles is non-negotiable Point, blank, period! It's kinda hot in this motherfucker But we got the a/c on Baby you actin like your fingers hurt Alright I got that little shit out the way I got some more shit for you to type Ready... Last niggas got shot Sued me for ten mill Some more niggas playin gangster I found out that wasn't real Them yoppers started goin off Everybody fuckin squeal Niggas go from playin gangster To tellin who the shooter is I don't know a nigga that rob That bring is camera To the crime scene Me somewhere without a couple shooters You fuckin kiddin me? Niggas win oscars off of actin And I see A nigga try anything To trick you off These fuckin streets A nigga try it all Just to sit down In your fuckin seat Bein hot? I know about it I been that since '03 Goon inpersonators Is all you fuck niggas'll ever be You either one of two things: You either groupies or the police Ah man, it's gettin kind late But before I go Type this shit right here I charge 40, 000 I'm really worth 60 This market was kind of slow Only did a quarter milli I'm hotter right now Then any nigga who ever diss me Know why you mad Cause I'm hotter than you In your city Been in the streets Say ounce goin for 550 My dog just came home Bought him the 760 "oh plies must be scared, Keep his security with him" Security for you niggas My security for these bitches A million dollar nigga In a 30 dollar dickies Nigga I was totin choppers When niggas was riding 20's Niggas was on e&j Nigga I was drankin remy Was it a 745? Fore niggas had hemmys Benz on 4's dogs Hummer 26s I put the 8's on the drop Got the 2's on the bentley And niggas claim to hate me But ain't got no holes in me Nigga I sell goon Nigga just say "how many? " Ain't on a hundred songs Pussy cause I ain't friendly Bills: I got none Money: I got plenty Gutter, and never left Nigga is still in me Say I'm her baby daddy Well that's that bitch opinion A man, I'm finna let you go on Ahead and go home dog I don't think you like to work As late as I like to work But I'm a finish this another time homey.