Lyrics
One, two, three to the fo'
Bitch I’m a pimp, I don’t speak to no hoes
You niggas never match MC’s with no flows
It just don’t add up like me with no dough
I swear to God, just last year I was broke
On the block selling dope, watching my niggas snort coke
My life changed from the planes to the boats
From the chains to the clothes, don’t need Game for these hoes
They just hop in the Range and we go
Switching lanes baby go’n give me brains on the low
Never lame, born and raised in the Sco
Niggas hate, but they won’t say a thing to me though
It’s like that, as a matter of fact
I got powers with the powder, Harry Potter the crack
Every hour I devour, money shower with that
Lemon heads in my ears, how sour is that?
Real sour, I break shit down like Twin Towers
Nabbed ya bitch, had the bitch, bitch holla
If it ain’t 'bout dollars, I don’t want to hear about it
Never square, boy this nigga right here about it
Call me Ya Boy, for short call me YB
Don’t try me, carry gun like ID
But fuck guns, I keep niggas beside me
And we’ll beat a punk nigga down like Rodney
I feel I’m the king when it comes to this rap thing
If I didn’t have a mic, I probably clap things
Or post all night serving things to the crack fiends
Boy I got runners like the coach of the track team
Yes I’m focused, vision clear as a flat screen
You broke niggas not eating you’re fasting
I’m telling you, all the hoods, they feel dude
They like «Pac gone, but fuck it, he’ll do»
A lot of jealous niggas, they be trying to kill dude
Because Ya Boy pockets green as mildew
And in the west, if I’m not the best
Or at least second, I’ll put a weapon up to my chest
Haters don’t want to see me breathe
Cause they know I got Next like MTV
They can’t see me like bootleg DVD’s
Cause I got more pads than the NPC
Catch me dipping in a Jag, seaweed green
I’m in a league of my own, you in a pee-wee league
When I was broke, still my grill at least three G’s
Now I talk with a smile, let the VV’s breathe
It’s Ya Boy, I represent the CDP
You a ho dog, you be were the weenies be
You the man when the east coast talk about ya
Buzzing in the streets, each coast speak about ya
That’s me, and if you ain’t here
It’s about to get ugly, like Freeway’s beard
It’s the streets, you don’t get a lot of leeway here
It get hotter than a motherfucking heat wave here
Trust me, there’s a lot of heat-play here
Leave you MIA like the Heat play here
Wear guns to surpass the hatin'
Wear a MAC around my neck, it’s a fashion statement
I laugh at you clowns thinking I’m the same dude
I’m not as quiet as I was back in grade school
I’m much sicker with an addiction to spray tools
And like a game, I’m just dying to play fools
So run up if you think I’m a chump
I’ll leave your body in the trunk, smelling just like skunk
I’ll leave your head in your lap, right after I dump
Even Ashton Kutcher couldn’t make your nucka a punk
I’ll be thugging until I’m at the pearly tall gates
And I’ve been thugging since 20's had a small face
I’m still thugging and 20's got a large face
Ya Boy the black '06 version of Scarface
And the Bay is where I made my name
Where the niggas go dumb, like Damon Wayans
Yea, it’s hyphy, but some niggas going all out
So I don’t go dumb cause the gun might fall out
Trust me, I’m not the nigga you should call out
I’m looking at your teeth and I’mma knock 'em all out
Twice as big as I was before
And the radio won’t even play my song no more
It’s cool, I’m in the street like a hydrant though
So when they ask who the best, their reply is «Yo
That nigga Ya Boy, that boy got a fiery flow»
Hoes try to make me their man, my reply is «No»
Yes, you can get on your knees and blow
Put my thing in your mouth, but easy though
A hot boy, I don’t sound like Weezy though
Got snow, but I don’t think I got a Jeezy flow
I’m the truth, I could go R&B and blow
But this rap game’s so fucking easy though
I’m the pizza man, I got cheese and dough
My H-Town niggas got me off leaning dro
Niggas think I’m a ho, til I squeeze the fo'
And that’ll change they mind like Keyshia Cole
And I’m single, somebody let Keyshia know
That I break backs and leave girls leaning yo
The girls choose cause my penis better
Not to mention I’m hot like Phoenix weather
Not to mention you cold, you don’t even go gold
When I drop, I’mma go platinum times fo'
That’s four million sales from Florida to Wales
Cause I got more bars than four million jails
And I’m holding a twelve, gauge for you Ames
Aimed at your brain leave your membrane rearranged
If you don’t think I’m the truth you retarded
Record labels, get the bidding war started