Lyrics to Ghetto Boyz
Top$ide
Sixty for the charm but that ain't shit tho
Turn this shit up on the headphones a lil' bit more
I feel grimey as hell right now, you know?
Facts, nigga
My motherfuckin' face balled up, right now
Mm, augh, ah
Boy, I'll growl on one you bitch ass niggas
Yeah, nigga
Sixty for a motherfuckin' charm, that ain't shit, though (Bitch)
Bitch, you better hope I don't go broke, I'm pullin' kick doors
Bitch, I lost more money than you had, I'm still rich, though (Bitch)
Bitch, I'm sippin' on a twelve of Wock, this ain't no Tris, ho
She hate the way I act, I just can't help it, I'm the shit (She hate that)
I left my show and came back to the trap to sell a brick
I left the O and went back to the K, I'm in the sticks (Yeah)
I'll leave this rap shit alone and gеt back in the mix
You know what's goin' on
She gon' tell mе pull up when you leave, don't leave your ho at home (Uh-uh)
Made a hundred G's in like three days, I wasn't even gone that long
Come back home and re-up, jump back on that road (No cap)
Too many niggas that had they phone tapped, so I'm back on the beeper
Bad bitch called me up, I paint her face, now she like Mona Lisa
Came straight home from jail, it wasn't two weeks, I got back on the Kisha
Feel like Pookie, she keep callin' me and I just can't leave her (She keep callin')
Boy, get off my dick 'cause you ain't got no cheese (Boy, get off my dick)
Made a half a mil' at home, I ain't have to leave, huh (Half a mil')
Knocked her down off a Perc', now she harassin' me
Bitch, it ain't no limit to this pape', I feel like Master P
Yeah, Michael Corleone, sippin' good, twerkin' mobile phones
I had to cut it on to get the money, leave them hoes alone
I'm all through TSA with package on me, Boston George in Blow
I told the DEA that I'm retired, we just sellin' songs
I never ever-ever love 'em like my dough
Dolce tee was like three hunnid but my sprite was more
Your lil' bitch must be impatient 'cause she tryna go
Last shit you niggas dropped, I wouldn't even know
I brought one, she brought one, I can't sleep alone
Countin' money, talking numbers, plug on speaker phone
I've been handling my business, gettin' bigger with the gang
A couple watching from the stands 'cause they went against the grain
Stop with all that playin', I pay, they dip you in your grave
All this pape', man, it's hard not to change
Sixty for the charm but that ain't shit tho
Turn this shit up on the headphones a lil' bit more
I feel grimey as hell right now, you know?
Facts, nigga
My motherfuckin' face balled up, right now
Mm, augh, ah
Boy, I'll growl on one you bitch ass niggas
Yeah, nigga
Sixty for a motherfuckin' charm, that ain't shit, though (Bitch)
Bitch, you better hope I don't go broke, I'm pullin' kick doors
Bitch, I lost more money than you had, I'm still rich, though (Bitch)
Bitch, I'm sippin' on a twelve of Wock, this ain't no Tris, ho
She hate the way I act, I just can't help it, I'm the shit (She hate that)
I left my show and came back to the trap to sell a brick
I left the O and went back to the K, I'm in the sticks (Yeah)
I'll leave this rap shit alone and gеt back in the mix
You know what's goin' on
She gon' tell mе pull up when you leave, don't leave your ho at home (Uh-uh)
Made a hundred G's in like three days, I wasn't even gone that long
Come back home and re-up, jump back on that road (No cap)
Too many niggas that had they phone tapped, so I'm back on the beeper
Bad bitch called me up, I paint her face, now she like Mona Lisa
Came straight home from jail, it wasn't two weeks, I got back on the Kisha
Feel like Pookie, she keep callin' me and I just can't leave her (She keep callin')
Boy, get off my dick 'cause you ain't got no cheese (Boy, get off my dick)
Made a half a mil' at home, I ain't have to leave, huh (Half a mil')
Knocked her down off a Perc', now she harassin' me
Bitch, it ain't no limit to this pape', I feel like Master P
Yeah, Michael Corleone, sippin' good, twerkin' mobile phones
I had to cut it on to get the money, leave them hoes alone
I'm all through TSA with package on me, Boston George in Blow
I told the DEA that I'm retired, we just sellin' songs
I never ever-ever love 'em like my dough
Dolce tee was like three hunnid but my sprite was more
Your lil' bitch must be impatient 'cause she tryna go
Last shit you niggas dropped, I wouldn't even know
I brought one, she brought one, I can't sleep alone
Countin' money, talking numbers, plug on speaker phone
I've been handling my business, gettin' bigger with the gang
A couple watching from the stands 'cause they went against the grain
Stop with all that playin', I pay, they dip you in your grave
All this pape', man, it's hard not to change
