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Correct D-Boy Blues Lyrics
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Artists: B
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B-Legit
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Correct D-Boy Blues
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[B-Legit] Aight, check game playboy It's like this here In this motherfuckin' game mayne Shit ain't always gon' be gravy playboy, see Thangs ain't always gon' go your way, y'knahmsayin? You better take the bitter with the sweet If you want to survive in these motherfuckin' streets But peep it doe I got kind in my mackin', I started to stackin' in the Valle' You see I sent that bitch named, Sally To the track with a big fat sack of the crack And told her don't come back, until she did that Cause shit was gettin' funky out in the Bay You couldn't find a good plug, from here to L.A. Cause niggaz get sheisty and sell you bunk And no scratch, but these gats, gon' equal funk You can't be no punk, get slabbed in yo' truck And roll around town with the beat on pump Have yo' eardrums leakin' from the beatin' of the series 2's Bitch... I got the D-Boy Blues [Chorus x2 B-Legit] The blues bitch, the blues hoe I know some niggaz in my crew, that done had 'em befo' I got the blues bitch, the blues hoe ("Stretched, I guess I got the D-Boy Blues") [B-Legit] My family get this call from this fool Who said he knew this fool, said this fool was cool Said that his daddy was a mason with a major supply And I can get some thangs as long as I buy 5 I really wasn't trippin' cause I had the cash But if it goes down funky I'ma smoke yo' ass Hung up the phone and I was up, put the mill' on the tuck The speaker-box in the Chevy truck I'm at the spot a hundred G's, and my strap I done beeped this fool twice and he ain't call back Now where he at, schemin' on Legit the Savage Wanna wrap me up and ride away with the cabbage Everybody startin' to look like the FBI I'm hella paranoid dude, but now I'm hella high It ain't fly for this nigga from the H-I-double-L With no motherfuckin' dope to sell [Chorus] [B-Legit] I spend my last, ephedrine and some pirate's glass I got my mask, whippin' up some dope fast Or a little mag 57 is a rag Hydronic ash shit is known to keep the fiends blastin' Mix together, cook it up on a Bronson burner Cause that fire have you higher than that Ike Turner Hours later, it's lookin' good for this player Oil formed and I just got my third layer And if it's cool, yo' nigga yellin' fuck the collar Fo' times my mail, with the sales an hour Jackin' off my cash, buyin' up hella toys And all I'm fuckin' with is rich-ass white boys Took him out the glass but he lookin' dirty white Washed him off with the acetone to get him right Who got a light, and when yo' nigga lit the flame He'll bam-boof with the roof, and e'rythang Am I to blame, fo' niggaz havin' bad luck? Too much dirt, is that stoppin' me from comin' up? Well I don't know, but I'm po' and I need a few Got yo' boy stressed out, I got the D-Boy Blues [Chorus]
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