Tom: Eb major
Verse 1
All you frontin' ass niggaz
Callin' all frontin' ass bitches
Yo, get the Hell on with that
Verse 2
Yo, yo, yo, yo
D
Eb
Why you over there lookin' at me,
D
while my girl standin' there?
These bitches actin' like they never
seen a millionaire
Feel my pockets,
wanna really get your hands in there
Now what it be like?
You confused man,
that shit don't even seem right
Eb
How you cats on your album
Like 'Pac shit is funny to me
All you niggaz livin' bummy wasn't
fuckin' with me
Now nigga get it on,
soon you be dead and gone
Verse 3
D
Shorty got a bubble all she
pay my bail bitches
Type to let you fuck but
never tell bitches
Down ass hoes that'll grind that dough
Catch me with another chick
Eb
and beat them down to a pulp
D
It's the F A T, to the J O E
Drink cris' with the feds
when they come for me
No cuffs, no guns, they respect a G
Number one with a slug,
Eb
what you ex pect from me?
Verse 4
D
If you see a nigga frontin'
fake shit on his wrist
Walk around all night,
Eb
D
same bottle of Cris'
(Say what, say what what?)
(Say what, say what what?)
If you see a bitch frontin' in
her best friend's clothes
Eb
New sass weaven and fucked
(Say what, say what what?)
(Say what, say what what?)
Verse 5
D
Now all my ladies put your hands up
Nah mami, if you fuck for
doe then you's a hoe
And no I'm not the one
Eb
that don't drop the notes
D
I only ice the beef and rock the coat
Think you gettin' somethin' from me
your thoughts are broke
Might get a little wheeze
D
So get the Hell on with that,
don't you weave and feel it
Get the Hell on with that,
I'm alright I'm just chillin'
Verse 6
D
Chicken neck ass bitch tryin'
to palm the dough
Dm
Should've charged me at the door,
full of heavy mo'
Coulda made you a thug
from the guy with the mo'
But yo, I ain't never met
a chick that was innocent
Eb
They all fuck some, eat some, never kiss
skeed on and that was it
See me in the video like,
Verse 7
"Bitch I sucked his dick"
D
You let him in at one time 'cause
you thought he was fly
Now you see him at the clubs,
Eb
D
he don't pay you no mind
(Say what, say what what?)
(Say what, say what what?)
Yo, every time you smoke,
dude puff your 'dro
But when it's time to go cop,
Eb
D
he ain't got no dough
(Say what, say what what?)
(Say what, say what what?)
Verse 8
D
Ludacris be the number one street,
clown wishin 'em luck
Cause I'm 'bout to make them break a leg
Eb
thinkin' I'm givin a FUCK
D
And you catch a beat, down,
bottles is breakin', craniums crack
Chairs thrown when the heat
is attacked
And you hear the street, sound,
hitters and runners
Killers and gunners,
Eb
winter to summer the niggaz that want us
trouble in West other than South
Cover your chest,
they cover your mouth
Verse 9
D
I'm goin' deep down Dirty indeed,
birdies in need
Eb
Thirty degrees and you heard it from me
around grabbin' my gun
They scatter and run but I'm handlin'
and havin' some fun
They gotta keep, rounds up under the bed,
up under the spread
If it ain't then it ain't,
D
So go to sleep, now, throats is splitted
And folks that get it they gotta get the hell on widdit,
BIATCH
Yo, yo, all these niggaz that claim thug like they're the type
Verse 10
D
But when
it's time to go to war they run
Eb
D
nin' for dear life
(Say what, say what what?)
(Say what, say what what?)
Got this clown runnin' around
like he's my fam
Eb
We did time in what joint? I don't know
(Say what, say what what?)
(Say what, say what what?)
Verse 11
D
Eb
Yeah, T S, Terror
D
Get the Hell on with that,
get the Hell on with that
Yeah, Charlie Rock L D
Eb
Ton' Montana rest in peace, 2001
D
Get the Hell on with that,
get the Hell on with that
Outro 1
Yeah
D
Eb
D
Eb
D
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