(feat. Pastor Troy, Re Re, Quebo Gold)



[Hook:]



Do it, (come on now)

Do it, (come on now)

Do it,

(Come on) Do the damn thang



[Verse 1: Rasheeda]



Come on let's start this shit

Shawty let's crank this shit

A little sumethin for them hatin' hoes

Who gets nothin' but them knees and boes

Why ya'll all in my grill,

Why ya'll can't keep it real

Always tryin' to plot and scheme

Wanna live this life is just a dream

Ain't no I in teams

All the real niggas know what it mean

Catch me ya'll just to slow

Hatin' hoes gotta let ya'll go

Don't never try to stop my flo'



Won't tell you this shit no mo'

Da baddest hoe that you ever seen

Two triple O, shawty bout that green



[Verse 2: Que Bo Gold]



Naw they don't understand

These niggas don't understand

These muthafuckers think we playin

See they don't know what we sayin

Fake niggas in our grill

Fake niggas all in our grill

These niggas don't wanna get to it

These niggas don't wanna do it



[Hook:]



Do it, (come on now)

Do it, (come on now)

Do it,

(Come on) Do the damn thang



[Verse 3: Re Re]



You can tell a real nigga from the fake fake

A trill nigga that's down in the cake cake

A hot girl that's clean not stank stank

Some bad weave for somebody

So u took a little drank

So I guess it made u think that you could when u can't

Wit the N with the ain't

Ain't nobody got time round here to playing round

Sucka wit the big sack nigga better lay it down

Comin' through ain't bout that shady shit

Boy I'm mo' dirty than Dusty Rhodes

I drop the beat and rock the flo'

Representing that Que Bo Gold

So don't you try to test us out thinkin' we country wit no skills

Cuz I drop the bass and tame the bass

Put this fire to yo grill



[Verse 4: Rasheeda]



Well I was born in Illinois okay ah

Raised in Atlanta, G-A yah

Lived in New York and L.A. yah

My nigga I'm da shit no matter where I stay

Cuz, uh, I wuz cut like that, lil buddy i'm stacked like that

From da front to da side to da back, Rasheeda, and I'm tight like that

I ain't never been worried bout anotha

Cutter her buddy, lil buddy I don't studder

9 double lock chrome for the lame lame

Big faces in my pocket not the chump change

Ride the Benz with the wood grain, grilled out, smoke frame,

with the knock knock

38 pop pop all you haters just stop

Or you gone get dropped



[Hook:]



Do it, (come on now)

Do it, (come on now)

Do it,

(Come on) Do the damn thang



[Verse 4: Pastor Troy]



Brrrrdt! Uh, Stick em, ha ha ha, stick em

Fuck dem pussy niggas and who ever wit em

All I say is sic em

And there go my boys

D-S-G-B, Pastor damn Troy

Boy you ain't ready

Boy you don't want it

Boy we ain't ready, bitch get disappointed

Shit, all I know is southern blo'd not lower than a dime

From thirty piece to quarter ki we strictly on da grind

No time to spit no evidence, no evidence, no charge

Since they ain't got no evidence

I gave them my lil boy

The scars from my hand as I crank up the speaker

Drop the bomb on you bitches, Pastor and Rasheeda

Bitch, do it!!



[Hook:]



Do it, (come on now)

Do it, (come on now)

Do it,

(Come on) Do the damn thang