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Correct Hot Boys 226 Lyrics
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Artists: B
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B.g.
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Correct Hot Boys 226
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Lyrics:
[B. G.] Nigga you peepin, 'cause I'm peepin for niggas creepin I'm on my game ready to be releasin and rearrange Ya fuckin brain Carry and shoot that old 50 plus Out the clip these bullets rush, leave ya fuckin head bust Wuz up, I freeze beef like a deep freezer Ya talk noise, where ya stand nigga is where I leave ya Believe in me and my click, hit ya block erasin Leave ya thoughts wastin, I run a hundred miles paper chasin I'm 'bout drama, foolishness, whatever start the trigga play I had to spank a nigga believin what a bitch say Like K. C., I don't play Spin a nigga bin everyday A hundred round drum on the K Leave ya set a straight disaster Ya got birds? I smash ya Refuse, I leave that ass, know that I'm nasty No clues, I can't be caught I can't be found, it's all on you I stop ya heart from beatin, down to the dirty-do I leave a nigga flesh hangin from his chest 'Cause the best that he dressed Couldn't fuck with the Smith & Wess B. G., Black Connection 226 start static Comin out a nigga attic leavin holes in ya carriage I ride all night 'til I catch a bitch And when I catch, I auto matic wet ya bitch [Bullet] It's that nigga off the block, call me the hood mack Disguised in red bandana strapped wit the chrome and black mack Check, while you be the playa hater, I be the bitch fader Bullets graze ya, nigga I tried to erase ya Pick the casket, dump the Glock in the basket I stroll slow, a tisket, a tasket I brings enough of??? Heat then I bring my boys To destroy, chop ya down like a clown Uptown!!! That is my destination And murderin motherfuckers is my occupation You'd rather face the nation than to fuck wit me I keep a chopper, I'm a fool out that wild tc Good bye, better yet I'll see ya later I'm smooth with the steel and wit the hands I'm like Frazier Okey doke yo bitch ass, then I take the cash and blast Never get caught, my trade mark is the black mask 226 tattoed on my over my heart This here mark means that I was down from the start Releasin them cop killers and body peelers I got ya, you bitch Now it's time for me to drop ya [Lil' Wayne] Head shots stop, complete 50 shots when our choppers scream Havin trouble this evenin Leavin the scene not breathin Me and the Hot Boyz ride Cheif and gettin high Beef and niggas die when me and the Hot Boyz ride Girlfriend under the seat, driver side of the Hummer Here comes the chopper drummer faster than a track runner Don't play the hard road 'cause the hard road will get you left On your way to the crossroads, no tomorrow for yourself Wettin your whole set and where I think ya be at Attackin your old hood and where ya people sleep at React, pure D-donkey, 'bout gettin funky Turk throw me the junk keep more ammo than an army Clips that's all extended leave you bended, rear ended Sk's be sendin, slugs can't be defended There goes the arrival, chopper spits five more Screamin lets start the war 'cause we 'bout survival I gets loose, chopper, blast drastically, tragically Bloody, bloody bodies lie upon the ground raggedy You turn around I got that red light beamin bright You full of fright 'cause you know you might die tonight I gets tool it's, I'm ruthless, do more shootin this 'Bout gettin foolish, lose it, chopper, ready to shoot it The head buster, Apple and Eagle, B. G., still a sinner I got his body stank behind the Carrollton shoppin center [Juvenile] Baby, gimme the keys, gimme the G's, gimme the weed, gimme the mack-10 Let me see what's happenin, to me these niggas lackin Some tellin me felonies was commited, some was acquitted My destiny is to live not in jeopardy, to the death of me I provide knowledge that spread like a virus This a street orientation, you can't learn this in college You be fuckin around wit the keys if you aint rollin shit up I wish you niggas wit me, I would be sewin shit up Look, hide out in the cut Peep out Shot, Corey and Buck In an Expedition truck And brain fucked up from that dust Nigga, who trippin? I aint trippin, you trippin When I slap that clip in You shittin like stool pigeons That's my bitches, that's my riches, that's my niggas That's my yayyo, that's my scale That's my sale, that's my clientele This my block, this my rocks This my shop, this my Glock This my connection with the mob That's my partna black Saab This my people, that's my people That's hot rimmed Regal Ask my lawyer, I do it legal That's my credit card from Segal's This my cigar, this my weed This my Newport, this my reefer That's my old Alma Mater That's my uncle drinkin that bottle [Tec-9] Okay, I'm from that 3 and I don't give a fuck Nigga, I say murda, murda, what the fuck is up? Nigga better duck when I come around that bend, I'm 'bout that drama With the dirty 30, nose dirty And I'm from that 3 and I be gat totin I feel ya body full of lead Put you to bed And now another that done came up, fuck I plot and make sure that I don't miss the hit You up in???, I got ya, I hurt ya Now I'm up in ya rest area, finish ya I come with a bouquet of flowers Within the bouquet of flowers is a 9 nickel plated to devour And Motherfuck anybody tryin to get yo back They better be 'bout some comin around the men in black
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