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Versuri I got a story to tell

Who y'all talkin to man? Uhh Check it out, check it out This here goes out to all the niggaz that be fuckin mad bitches in other niggaz cribs thinkin shit is sweet Nigga creep up on your ass, hahaha Live niggaz respect it, check it I kick flows for ya, kick down doors for ya Even left all my motherfuckin hoes for ya Niggaz think Frankie pussy whipped, nigga picture that With a Kodak, Insta-ma-tak We don't get down like that, lay my game down quite flat Sweetness, where you parked at? Petiteness but that ass fat She got a body make a nigga wanna eat that, I'm fuck witchu The bitch official doe, dick harder than a missile yo Try to hit if she trippin dissapearin like Arsenio Yo, the bitch push a double-oh with the five in front, probably a connivin stunt Y'all drive in front, I'm a peel with her Find a deal with her, she fuck around and steal, huh? Then we all get laced Television's, Versacci heaven, when I'm up in em The shit she kicked, all the shit's legit She get dick from a player off the New York Knicks Nigga tricked ridiculous, the shit was plush She's stressin me to fuck, like she was in a rush We fucked in his bed, quite dangerous I'm in his ass while he playin gainst the Utah Jazz My 112, CD blast, I was past She came twice I came last, roll the grass She giggle, say I don't smoke it on homegrown Then I heard her moan, honey I'm home Yep, tote chrome for situations like this I'm up in his broad I know he won't like this Now I'm like bitch you better talk to him Before this fist put a spark to him Fuck around shit get dark to him, put a part through him Lose a major part to him, arm, leg She beggin me to stop but this cat gettin closer Gettin hot like a toaster, I cocks the toast, uhh Before my eyes could blink She screams out, "Honey bring me up somethin to drink!" He go back downstairs more time to think Her brain racin, she's tellin me to stay patient She don't know I'm, cool as a fan Gat in hand, I don't wanna blast her man But I can and I will doe, I probably chill doe Even though situation lookin kinda ill yo It came to me like a song I wrote Told the bitch gimme your scarf, pillowcase and rope Got dressed quick, tied the scarf around my face Roped the bitch up, gagged her mouth with the pillowcase Play the cut, nigga comin off some love potion shit Flash the heat on em, he stood emotionless Dropped the glass screamin, "Don't blast here's the stash, a hundred cash just don't shoot my ass, please!" Nigga pullin mad G's out the floor Put stacks in a Prater knapsack, hit the door Grab the keys to the five, call my niggaz on the cell Bring some weed I got a story to tell, uhh... Yo man, y'all niggaz ain't gonna believe what the fuck happened to me. Remember that bitch I left the club with man? Yo, freaky yo. I'm up in this bitch playa this bitch fuckin run them ol mink ass niggaz and shit, I'm up in the spot though. One of them six-five niggaz, I don't know. Anyway I'm up in the motherfuckin spot, so boom I'm up in the pussy, whatever whatever. I sparks up some lye, Pop Duke creeps up in on some, must have been rained out or something *laughing* because he's in the spot. Had me scared, had me scared, I was shook Daddy - but I forget I had my Roscoe on me. Always. You know how we do. So anyway the nigga comes up the stairs, he creepin up the steps, the bitch all shook she sends the nigga back downstairs to get some drinks and shit. She gettin mad nervous, I said fuck that man! I'm the nigga, you know how we do it nigga, ransom note style put the scarf around my motherfuckin face, gagged that bitch up, played the kizzack. Soon this nigga comes up in the spot, flash the Desert in his face he drops the glass. Looked like the nigga pissed on his-self or somethin, word to mother! Ahh fuckit this nigga runs dead to the floor, peels up the carpet, start givin me mad papers, mad papers. (I told you that bitch was a shiesty bitch cuz! Word to mother I used to fuck her cousin but you ain't know that! Hahaha. You wouldn't know that shit. Really though.) I threw all that motherfuckin money up in the Prater knapsack. Two words, I'm gone! (No doubt, no doubt... no doubt!) Yo nigga got some lye, y'all got some lye? [conversation fades out]

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