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8Ball & MJG
8Ball & MJG


Background information
Origin Memphis, Tennessee, United States
Genre(s) Hip-hop
Years active 1991—present
Label(s) Real Talk Entertainment
Grand Hustle Records
E1 Music
Associated acts UGK
Three 6 Mafia
Young Buck
Yo Gotti
Al Kapone
Tameka Cottle
Website Website
Members
Premro Smith
Marlon Jermaine Goodwin



Music World  →  Lyrics  →  #  →  8Ball & MJG  →  Albums  →  Living Legends

8Ball & MJG Album


Living Legends (05/11/2004)
05/11/2004
1.
2.
3.
Straight Cadillac Pimpin (feat. Shannon Jones)
4.
We Do It
5.
6.
Mad Rapper (Interlude)
7.
Shot Off (feat. Ludacris)
8.
When It's On (feat. P. Diddy)
9.
Trying To Get At You (feat. 112)
10.
Baby Girl (feat. P. Diddy)
11.
Get A Kit (Interlude)
12.
Forever (feat. Lloyd)
13.
Look At The Grillz (feat. Twista & T.I.)
14.
15.
16.
17.
Gangsta
18.
. . .


[P. Diddy speaking:]
To be or not to be that is the question,
Ball and G. that's the answer,
Living Legends, many are called
but few are chosen, you know their names,
legendes of the south,
8Ball fat boy, MJG, pimpin',
BadBoy nigga, show them whachu got!

. . .


[Intro - P. Diddy]
It's Bad Boy South Niggaz, Ball and G
Orange Mound, the moment you been waitin for
Collaboration, c'mon now
Let's go, let's go, let's so, c'mon

[Verse 1 - Eightball]
Straight from the underground, fat boy from the mound
Spit it how I live it, keep it gutter, that's how we get down
I wanna see you get it crunk, let a nigga know what hood you from
Eveybody wit me drunk as fuck, break it down, then roll it up
Back it up, a girl like you, a nigga like me can't pass it up
Rollin by, lookin good, put it in reverse then back it up
What's the deal, lemme make it clear what you got rite here
They break mold, one of a kind, fat boy witta gold mouth that shine
Hard to touch, sorry to tell you, boys out here ain't hard as us
Ball and G, part of the streets, cuz the streets are a part of us
Lay it down, please remember, games we don't play them now
Disrespect, please remember, stains we gon spray them round

[Chorus]
Buss a nigga head, smack a ho, shoot the club up
Buss a nigga head, smack a ho, shoot the club up

Bitch...nigga!!!
Bitch...nigga!!!
Bitch...nigga!!!
Bitch..

You don't want drama, no!
You don't want none, no!
You don't want drama, no!
You don't want none, no!

[Verse 2 - MJG]
Get up (Get up) Get crunk (Get crunk)
Let's race to the trunk (To the trunk)
Get a pump, unload and dump
Forget it, close the trunk
In the middle of a fire, scotch and burn him, overheat him
Really mistreat him, let's Rodney King him and over beat him
MJG is the reason yo season needed seasonal spices
They needed more life and lucky yo wife was bleedin
Now your life is leavin yo body, for drinkin too much Bacardi
You should've known when you started
Never fuck with G and E
In any climate I'm shinin, floss, I'm perfect wit timin
I'm good for rippin and rhymin in and out the beat
And Eightball is loadin the clip, for niggaz supposin to trip
And you know I'm rollin the whip, we finna set 'em free

[Chorus]

[Verse 3 - Eightball]
Eightball and G, get it crunk fa sho
My swagger, my flavor, my pimpin, my flow
My ho, my woman, my slacks, my denims
My backstroke in swimmin, in pools wit models in 'em
Them boys, they hate it, we hustle, we made it
We richer, the picture, is two of the greatest

[MJG]
The realest, you bump some Ball and G you gon feel it
Guaranteed, muhfucker, stamp, sign, seal it

[Eightball]
We placin, the fakest, they don't give it up we gon take it
The realest up in in this niggaz buckin, bitches shakin

[MJG]
They asses, but cash it, might be a habit
Like mics when we grab it, we cock it, we blast it

[Chorus]

[Outro - P. Diddy]
So here we go, Bab Boy South
Ball and G, Orange Mound
New York collaboration
You don't want no drama, you don't want none
I see you ATL, let's tear this shit up
C'mon, c'mon...I said let's tear this shit up!
Yeah, Ball and G, Bad Boy South
Let's go, let's work these motherfuckers
Let's get this money niggaz, yeah, as we proceed..

. . .


[MJG]
I'm so cold, I need a coat in the kitchen
I bust two verses, then go into intermission
No way you can provoke my vision
I, dont play I make a hoe pay a commission
Baby, come on you know I wrote compositions
That make niggaz wish they never spoke while they were spittin
I'm so ready I'm bout to blow from the tension
Like surprise you dont even know what you gettin
I'm becomin quick at gettin slow ??
Cant throw my position, I flow with persition
Is a must a keep it on the low in addition
To all my weapons and no ammunition
MJG, and I'm so in attention
I see you tryin to creep me for my dough, why you trippin
Youse a shipwreck nigga when you broke co-mission
Jesse Jackson cant help you with the Hope Coalition

[Chorus - Shannon Jones]
Well, I'm spendin loose
Got nothing to lose
Got nothing to prove
Its not easy to do
I got the streets in my pocket
With the hating better stop
Straight Cadillac Pimpin'
Young nigga better listen

[Hook - 8Ball x2]
If I should die, before I wake
Roll me sum up, make sho I'm straight
Make sho my cup filled up with yak
Make sho my paper come in stacks

[8Ball]
I come through like a mack, truck rumbling streets
Big Boy hit tracks straight pummeling beats
Rock hard like coke in a ???
Pay top dollar for the hot product indeed, yeah
Turn it up and get addicted to it
And have raw music soon as you listen to it
Jump up like a old fat lady at church
Jump back like a uncut thang at work
Mang, hop in and take a ride with a pimp nigga
Fire the green up and let me shoot the shit witcha
Talk slick till I make a chick get the picture
Just a page outta fat boy ghetto adventures
Listen, I'm a titan on the mic
Original, them weak niggaz bite what I write
Oh Lord, we going to get it jumpin like revival
Survival, Straight from my street bible

[Chorus]

[Hook x2]

[MJG]
These verses are must rip, dont slip, pimp a bitch
Put on your look, best outfit, get rich

[8Ball]
This here, get you out of your seat fo sho
Jump up, get crunk like you got the Holy Ghost

[MJG]
Ay Yo, collection plate, be straight, dont hate
Indicate, no shape, no plate

[8Ball]
Dont Hate, pay away, make a pimp, pockets straight
VISA, check, cash, any city, any state

[MJG]
Deep Down, in the country, in the hills, makin deals
No ex-aggeration, it is what it is

[8Ball]
Come on, you aint never heard shit like this
Two Pimps spittin game right out pu-pils

[Chorus]

[Hook x2]

[Shannon Jones singing till song fades]

. . .

We Do It

[No lyrics]

. . .


[Verse 1: 8 Ball]
Off brand niggaz we ain't fuckin with y'all
Catch up with ya kind cuz you ain't touchin a dog
Imitation fake like Gucci suits niggaz be wearin
Nigga like me hit the room and all the bitches be starin'
I'm not fine I'm not cute, they just know I got some loot
Grippin wood, lookin good '24s make them choose
Nine times out of ten the bitches bad news
Hit the dick and start actin like a motherfuckin' fool
Clothes brand new from my T-shirt to my shoes
Pop a tag every day, that's what ghetto niggaz do
Hustle hard, spread all the bread with my crew
When we in the club they be poppin bottles too
We crunk and keep it hype and everybody know it's on
When my work hits the street watch how quick that shit be gone
I rap like I'm quick enough but catch 'em full of zones
When my work hits the street watch how quick that shit be gone, nigga

[Chorus: 8 Ball & MJG]
Street niggaz (keep your guns hit the traps
spend your bread on rims and ice, whatever them bitches like)
Street niggaz (push it all hard or ball
sticky weed, whatever ya need, man we got it all)
Street niggaz (keep your guns hit the traps
spend your bread on rims and ice, whatever them bitches like)
Street niggaz (push it all hard or ball
sticky weed, whatever ya need, man we got it all)

[Verse 2: MJG]
I'm just a street nigga I keep my heat under the seat
If a... bum run up hope he got his gun up
From sundown to sunup I keep it with me
And I end up be unloadin on y'all when y'all hit me
It's a grand shame that you niggaz come from it but can't walk through it
What is it? I thought you knew it
It was the streets nigga, my seat used to hit it when I didn't have no wheels to go get it
M J fuckin' G droppin these bars with no regards for snitches and fake broads
You ain't hard from steroids, nigga you big fraud
I remember when them bullets was takin your lunch card
I'm a real ghetto politician
and what I gotta give in to motherfuckers who willin to try to vision
When a nigga spittin', Quit all the whinin' and bitchin'
Baby sharp, look and listen, pay attention to what you been missin'
It's the --

[Chorus]

[Bridge: 8 Ball]
Yea come on..
Street niggaz, street niggaz
We sittin' on leathers and we grippin' on wood (Streets is watchin')
We makin plenty bread and reppin' our hood (Streets is watchin')
Money over bitches, man it still all good (Streets is watchin')
We makin plenty bread and we reppin' our hood (Streets is watchin')

[Verse 3: Bun B]
What can I say about these streets that I be walkin'?
Not too much cuz where I from niggaz ain't motherfuckin talkin
We'd rather listen and watch
Tryin to flex and gaurd their clothes and Baume and Mercier ? watches
Tryin' to get my gloss on
I paid the cos' to be the boss on these corners where ballin niggaz floss on
Haters get tossed on, 5-0 get ?? and out of towners get robbed
and drop that, can't nobody gonna stop that
See it was like this before me
So if you think it's time to change, nigga show me
Obviously you don't know me It's time that you learned
Niggaz that try to hold me on my grind, they get burned
I'm down from P.A., Man - West side to the east, fool
(Aw come on Bun B, dude what about peace?)
Fuck peace, fool
You want some love, ask your momma or the lord
Bitch I'm down with pimps see, UGK be goin harder

[Chorus]

. . .


And welcome back from that commercial break
I found out some, please, ladies and gentlemen
Hold your applause please, can you please hold your applause?
I found out somethin' very interesting

The mad producer, he's not really that mad
He, Mr.Producer can you please tell us
Why you're not really that mad?
Would I be tellin' you shit though?

You can't make it up, sayin'
[Incomprehensible]
TV you know what I'm sayin' what's up for real
(Gentlemen please)

Yo I gotta tell you somethin' for real
What up? What up?
The niggaz got chedda dog and I did
A track on Mase's album and I ain't gonna lie, for real
[Incomprehensible]

Naw naw you can't be talkin' like that son for real
The niggaz don't you know what I'm say they be raisin'
Naw son naw

I'm sorry dog for real yo but, man dog
That kid Mase he be doin' his thing yo
What you mean he be doin' his thing?
I know they be doin' their what?

What I don't be doin' my thing?
Millie Vanilli did they thing
New Kid's on the Block, RuPaul
All them bitches and everybody else did they thing

And you ain't do no tracks on them
What happened to my track? You give 'em my shit?
You gave 'em my shit?
You gave 'em send 'em to the fuckin' projects

You gave 'em all 'em shit son?
How could you do that?
I'm the jolliest nigga you know, son
How could you do that to me, son? Damn

. . .


[Intro: Eightball]
He he he, yeeah

[Verse 1: Eightball]
What kind of nigga always run his mouth like a hoe
Like his jaw got a battery, this nigga always know
Who got robbed, got shot, who got put on lock
Nobody invited you and still you got up in the spot
Me, I'm not a witness, keep my distance, mind my business
You, somebody talk, you in they mouth like a dentist
We keep it gangsta, mommas love it cause they know it's real
Like UGK, "we keeps it real" mobbin' through the field
Big Ball, Fatboy, unload heat when my brain spill
You for it, images without no coke connect pills
We keep it crunk and poppin' real niggaz know the deal
We Bad Boys, anywhere we at we smoke and kill
You try to stop it, get yo' shit broke up in twenty pieces
We roll deep in brand new vehicles wit secret features
Game preachers move yo' pimpin' for you mamasitas
We players on the field, y'all niggaz in them bleachers

[Chorus: Eightball - (Repeat 2X)]
You talkin' down behind my back (uh) you done shot off nigga
Fifty, four or twenty sack, you done shot off nigga
If you fly and got a gun (uh) when the drama come, you run (uh)
You know what you just done, you done shot off nigga

[Verse 2: MJG]
Man, come on now, you done shot off just like Mike Davis lost a knockoff
Or his tight-ass shirt when the button pop off
You standin' it's snowin' you got yo' shoes and socks on
Who holds the key? No fucking bout it, I broke the lock off
I grew the top off, took the comma, period, dot off
And ran on wit it and broke you a whole lot off
I'm gettin' hot and startin' to boil, don't turn the pot off
You just affected wit it, pimpin' yo, get yo' rocks off
Release some pressure, stop all that cryin' and wipe ya snot off
Excuses you be usin' for losin' it's cheap as hot sauce
Earn yo' position, stop hatin' beacuse you not boss
M-J-G, pimp tight, I'm movin' yo' spot off
And I don't reach, stoppin' yo' plans, fucking yo' plot off
I go hard and I don't sheave and I'm not off
And livin' on the edge rebellin' I'm never dropped off
Like Aaron Hall, "Don't Be Afraid" bitch, call the cops off

[Chorus: Eightball - (Repeat 2X)]

[Verse 3: Ludacris]
Now you can either check yo' ego at the do' (door) or let the drama unfold
And check my Rap Sheet, BITCH, I'm almost ten million sold
I'm only rappin' cause I want to, I got enough plaques
Needless to say, my favorite rappers told me to get on this track
And so I DID it, quickly wrote my sixteen down and SPIT it
By the end of the verse you'll say, "once again, Ludacris SHIT it"
Then I'll wipe this wit yo' face and put yo' pride in the trash
My whole career is like my video, I'm showin' my ass
I keeps it, "gangsta, gangsta!" shooters and shanksters
Until you shot off motherfuckers, I'm a "thank ya, thank ya!"
Runnin' yo' mouth behind my back until you run out of time
But at least yo' talkin' let's me know some millions stay on yo' mind
It ain't nothin' wrong wit that
Tell em grabbin' the thang and then I put it to yo' brain
And change everything you ever hope fo' (for) wit the .44
You'll be fallin' back
And Yacht - is what I'm drinkin' steady thinkin' bout these pinks chasin'
I'm bout to bring home the bacon

[Chorus: Eightball - (Repeat 4X)]

. . .


[Verse 1: MJG]
I'm just a drop top flippin', flippin'
Fifth of Yacht sippin', sippin'
Dope crack that's going in the strip clubs tippin'
MJG ah, P.I.M.P. ah
Fuck a blind date, oh no, I got to see her
The new millennium poet
Forever show it, can't blow it
If you reap it, you sow it
I, pay my, dues
And it's the rules that I play by
Carry the team like I'm A.I
I used to cook rocks, and hit the block
And gun in the bushes, and money in my sock
Shit, I had hoes way before I was nationally famous
I was in the hood strapped up good
Watchin' my anus
I'm a target splitter
The world strongest man hardest hitter
Even though you hate
I still elevate regardless nigga
Step to us boy, look what you done started
And we don't even care that your arsenal be the largest

[Hook: 8 Ball & MJG, P. Diddy]
When it's on, it's on, it's on, it's on
When it's on, you better get your shit and be gone
When it's on, it's on, it's on, it's on
When it's on, you better get your shit and be gone
When it's on, it's on, it's on, it's on
When it's on, you better get your shit and be gone
When it's on, it's on, it's on, it's on
When it's on, you better get your shit and be gone

[Verse 2: 8 Ball]
Look, you niggaz play too much mayne
You need to pump yo' brakes
Keep a heater nigga need for them restless snakes
Right in my face caught a case tryin' to defend my space
Dodging snitches police niggaz jumping state to state
What kind of nigga run his mouth and snitch out everybody?
The kind of nigga that's gone end up being a dead body
Yo' wife and children gone be searching for their dear ol' daddy
They found his headless body tied up in a dark alley
It's cold like ice and snow on a nigga soul
For bricks or snow, niggaz will fuck you like a dirty hoe
Kick yo' door and put and your babies on the floor
See you in public fuck who with you let the thang go
A nigga tell you don't let business turn personal
Fuck what they say cause for gram a nigga hurtin' you
Niggaz out here hurtin' fool
Nothing is for free mayne
Fuckin' with the game
That's how that shit be mayne

[Hook]

[Verse 3: 8 Ball]
I was torn this bitch came from the streets I was born
Pussy like a little kitty back yellow as corn
I don't go around poppin' shit wit' niggaz who talkin'
Them niggaz ain't talkin' no more
Closed coffin
Not often do you see a nigga loyal as I
Like that boy from Best Eye nigga ready to die
For my bread and them niggaz that considered me family
Hold it down mayne I got you til we up there wit' granny

[Verse 4: MJG]
Cause as soon as I start writing
I start going through physical
Deeper into my spiritual
I'm so fuckin' lyrical
MJG the realest the truth the definition
Just call me the competition
I'm still stomping and pimpin'
I'm still working with Diddy, still fuck wit the hood
I got the key to the city, the streets is all good
My leather is all wood, my gun is still secluded
I'm still hoping and praying to God I don't use it

[Hook - until fade]
[P. Diddy - talking]

. . .

Trying To Get At You

[No lyrics]

. . .


[Chorus: 8 Ball - repeat 2X]
What it do baby girl
Get on the dance floor
Will you put your drink down
Come and dance with me

[Verse 1: MJG]
Let's hit my residence, baby it's evident
That you been raising hell, I make it heaven sent
M-J take you to places that you never went
One room one night for every day spent
Knocking a dent in the sheetrock she's hot
Got them legs fanned open like a peacock
I saw her dancing in the club with her new outfit
Her hair and her nails did show me love
Ya man say he got good green show me some bud
Give me the real hook up price like I'm ya cuz
Baby see I'm above the bullshit and the playing
Them hoes you listening to don't know what they saying
They relaying that he say she say language
If that's the way we trying to swing it won't swang it
M-J fucking G I ain't really new to this shit
Just wanna add something new to the list

[Chorus]

[Verse 2: 8 Ball]
Money make the world go round that's what they say
Conversation rules the nation in every way
My mind thinking shit and I say it before I know
I'm at the condo busting condoms on the floor
We keep the crunk hyper than any who use a mic
We do the kinda music the pretty women gone like
A sweet smell you know with perfect nails and toes
A round cinibun head under them clothes
I know you wanna go and smoke out
Stay up all night and go eat at the Waffle House
You and me bring your friend that make three
I bet I can make you feel so sexy
Let the drank flow and burn the best dro
Put ya drank down and go hit the dancefloor
Make a nigga wanna get withcha and spend dough
Love what you do to me mami I wanna know

[Chorus]

[Verse 3: 8 Ball]
My yak spilling full of that hay I'm feeling right
Spend the night with me let's wake up and take a flight

[MJG]
She'll suck a nigga dick for the flight but don't bite
We gone keep it on the low no gossip and no hype

[8 Ball]
My rubber on tight on the jet on the runway
Leave Monday don't come home to Sunday

[MJG]
We dip Tuesday be back in town by Wednesday
Break a girl off that chain like Cunta Kintae

[8 Ball]
So will you dip with me baby girl
On a trip around the world while I play with your curls

[MJG]
Play with your titty nipples will that make your toes curl
You a bad motherfucker baby its your world

[8 Ball]
I know I'm coming on strong but that's me
Whatever you want I can do it correctly

[MJG]
So get ya mind right baby you Tina and I'm Ike
Bring that ass over here dance with Ike or we gone fight

[Chorus]

. . .

Get A Kit

[No lyrics]

. . .


Ooh la la bangladesh..
Heyyy...

[Hook - Lloyd]
See a nigga like me gonna get money til I get rich
Ride with a couple hundred G's in a biscuit
Stay down for whatever forever hustle with my misfit homes
And soon you gonna see just how crunk this shit be once we get rich
Til then its back to hustlin with my misfits
Deep, on a creep, fifty songs tucked under the prone..
Fifty songs tucked under the prone

[MJG]
I keep a big old nigga beater heater
Its in the trunk of my four-door and my two seater
Im make them say skeeter skeeter
Keep up and grab the ball back just like I'm Derek Jeter
I know you want to fuck my hoe but you too scared to meet her
See you aint got enough bread to even start to treat her
The way a pimp did, and in the bed I'm even sweeter
I hustle, I got more Franklins in me than Aretha
If I had Oprah Winfrey I would marry her and keep her
I spit as much knowlege as preachers and teachers
Just as long as the message reach us we all fill up the bleachers
I'm the MJG, I get in yo' shit
I aint trying to run yo' clique, that be your friend so quick
Come on, where my money, let me hit the stage
Fuck them long interviews, just give us the front page
Black G apostrophe S us, forever bust
Them lyrics that make the people say that he got nuts

[Hook]

[Eightball]
Yeah man..
Sticky weed kickin in, big Ball steppin in
Straight flying when I hustle, thats how I represent
Bounce, if you feelin what I'm spitting up in your ear hole
I been rocking mics since I was 17 years old
Smoking up, drinking up, kicking dust, and fucking up
Everybody want a piece and we ain't got enough for us
Yeah, I touched a brick or two, pounds I done smoked a few
Got my bread and didn't do what the fuck I was supposed to do
Money blinds players, turns them into evil spirits
Niggaz die trying to live out these old rap lyrics
I try to give it to them just how it come to me
Real and unedited, not like it be on T.V
Be myself and dont be what those haters want me to be
Take the good the bad hit my knees set me free
Make the bad good, put that on my leather and wood
Cinderella with my fellas deep off in the hood
Nigga

[Hook]

[MJG]
You need to stop sticking your hand out and trying to fold it
Turn around the broom handle and trying to hold it
It's plenty dirt to be swept, and leaves to be raked
Now you need to leave from my face, take heed to mistake
That you just made, thinking a player could get played
Thinking that a rapper could get wrapped and phone tapped
My whole life I learned the hard way to spot liars
And it seems like its usually the ones thats right by ya
FIRE!

[Eightball]
Jumping up out the tip with pistols sittin up
Fuck me? Watch my gun skeet like its bussing nuts
'Cept when it hit your cheek it burn then it split your cheek
Then come out the back of your head, now your just a memory
Graphic how I got it illustrated, rated triple X
Niggaz want to be the king, I dont give a fuck who's best
Just watch your mouth, talkin down in the south
I'm gonna let my nuts hang and start punching clowns out

[Hook]

. . .


[Chorus]
Look at the grill [4x]
[2x]
this for my niggaz with the bank roles (look at the grill on my pimp mobile)
this for my niggaz with the pretty cars (look at the grill on my pimp mobile)
this for my niggaz who got all the hoes (look at the grill on my pimp mobile)
this for my niggaz who don't give a fuck (look at the grill on my pimp mobile)

[T.I.]
(hey! Grand hustle Bad Boy south lets ride nigga)
chevy super clean, two or three screens
watch a nigga be to the left I lean
50 karats in the crown, niggaz no more sceam
just to let you sucker niggaz know I'm the king
this green I smoke we call it drow
its dead-liest from memphis Tenn
you see my folk we ain't no joke
don't turn this into a murder scene
I'm paranoid, tone misquoted
should not since my early teens
but I'm drop that note, grab me under sixteen
you can bring all the niggaz you want to bring
hey! I thought you were running things
all you did was run the screens
must be out his mind thinking' the steel won't touch him
see it on the bush let it burn like Usher
click, click, bang you can end the discussion
ain't shit sweet cause I seen you unpleasant
I steal would spray broad day ain't nothing
the lilac one AK doing something
I'm immuned to the drama
act a fool if you wanna
lean in my pocket, 40 calb by the stomach
he acting' like he want it, I'm show a nigga somethin
somebody phinna to have put (&#&#*^%)
I don't tolerate suckas who be trying me
take a special kind of nigga to defies me
similar to 8ball and MJG been coming that hard since 93
niggaz know, ain't no out shinning me
I've been the G you're trying' to be
I mob with gorillas, squaders and robbers
and killers true niggaz gonna ride me

[chorus (2x)]

[Twista]
take a look at my wheels, rolling through the south
still spinning and I'm still smoking heavy
look at both of my grills, my motherfucking mouth
looking just like the rims on the chevy
pimp twist I'm a playa still, ballin' in the game come major bills
come and take a trip with me to hater Ville
on some 24 omegas and gator grill
fuck a twist. fuck you bitch
I don't really wanna have to bust you bitch
roman gold shine so hard
niggaz out here know they can't touch that shit
I don't trip, niggaz pull up
I be lookin' proud when I bust that dutch
specially when I look at the mac in the black Cadillac
and the bubbles in the hummer truck
when you see a nigga cruise through
niggaz try to jack you and loose my coop is by the kennel wheels
mother fucker wanna take my style
cause niggaz out here know I'm only fucking with the bonnet grills
and the haters wanna see me fall
how can I let y'all niggaz play me
shited on their good then I pull up
from my vehicle while bumpin' 8 Ball & MJG
twista bitch and I from the shy
with my memphis connect and I ain't going' lie
we be specializing in and up coming with dope shit
and pulling up in cool whips that's fly
still drink, still blow, then I creep through the hood real slow
while I bump kamikaze shit, while I scream look at my grill hoe

[chorus (2x)]

[8ball]
old grill smile, wiling out up in the VIP
the club close at five 'o'clock, we pulling up around three
wood grain wheel gripping, Cinderella sipping
I like my jewelry golden like a piece of fried chicken
money players is demon like I'm willy beaming
like a bitch that practice sucking dick and drinking semen
she sceaming dreaming, wishing she can be my number one
forever young, mama I just wanna' to have some fun

[MJG]
don't try to ever take my cash from me
you mine as well, jump of a cliff you fucking crash dummy
like that's my last money
this for my niggaz who be bussin' back to perpetrators
we don't discriminate, we'll hurt now hurt you later
but I ain't worried, I smoke one on you fucking haters
and I'm hidding gators on the refrigerator
down south memphis Tenn. pimpin' gotta rep it
the third I did, that nigga rugg, boy that nigga pimpin

[chorus (2x)]

. . .


Started this shit and I'm gone finish yes I am damnit time for dem niggas from Memphis-Tenn to get deep up in it (4x)

. . .


[Chorus 2x]
Don't make (Don't make)
Me Kill (Me kill)
No motherfucking body in here (in here)
I'ma shoot (I'ma shoot)
Three shots (Three shots)
Somebody done made me hot (me hot)

You Got Me Fucked Up
We Shoot Guns and Hit Targets
Meat Market Yall Haters Up Who Start Shit
MJ Ripping Holes In Bodyguards
Outta Line Polices and boys Who They Party Hard
And When The Party Started I Thought We Was All Chillin
I Figured Everybody Would Be Leaving here all living
You Standin To Close Partner
You Askin To Much Baby
You Need To Get From Round Me Befor our clique go crazy
(8-ball)
Yea maine these niggas
coming round talking bout they hot
but they not
fucking with fatboy mj
nigga we the truth
holla at playa maine
streets or the booth
we popping at you haters main
Soft as niggaz, make they chin hit the flo off brand niggaz
take they chesse and they hoe mafio (mafio) niggaz know
(niggaz know) when them real live G's hit the dow (hit the dow)

[Chorus 2x]

[8 Ball]
I gotta 22 not much bigga than my fanga a when chesta pistol grip pump us a head ranga a two shot daraga nine lil milana
abig fourty glock just call me the gun slanga some ak's spray to kill the front line one hundred and thirty dead from
squeezin' off one time all you mu-fuckin' who gappin' fly lip let it rip don't slip I'm workin' wit five clips
[MJG]
We fifty deep and err nigga wit me got they ice on lil nigga that a break yo face like Roy Jones crushin' bones when it's
on we ain't never scaed them memphis boyz be so serious when it's bout that bread kidnap family members them niggaz don't
leave no witness they all love a gansta that shit be so addictive when we pull up they know who we are by ther we blowing
big and you know Diddy he gon buy the bar

[Chorus 2x]

[MJG]
Take yo vest off from blowin' yo kneck off and eyes out high speed chase I follow you to yo hide out shot yo fuckin' ties
out don't try to ride now what happen to the base in yo voice you just cryin' now I thought you was a man you starting to
look fine now a grim we been lookin' for you in boyz time now then blow the wrong shit out of the right side of yo head
maine ain't noway for retaliation when U's a dead man
[8 Ball]
Not a scread maine we keep off the frame we staying away from lames we runnin' the whole game I do it like a G you ain't
fuckin' wit me 8 ball, MJG we reppin' for Tennessee wit murder and homicide the day niggaz die the day niggaz ride and
don't need a reason why it's money and the power the week they get devowered them boyz they disrespect wit bullets they
get showered

[Chorus 2x]

. . .


Said I got the blues
Said I got the blues
Memphis city blues

Yeah, light up the green, watch me light up the room
Watch me light up the mic, fat boy, be the truth
Nigga live and learn, learn the streets or get burned
Niggas take what you earn, they be slick as a perm
Man I try to be slicker, try to be cunning and quicker
Try to be more than just another broke ass nigga
In this game of life, lose your life in the game
Take a life full of pain, make you remember my name

From the home of the blues, thought I paid my dues
It's hard to fill my shoes, imitators abuse
I just love the music, like my heart and my brain
Couldn't live without it, that's impossible man
I'm unstoppable man, from the bottom I came
Niggas scratching for bread, stumbled up on the fame
Humble niggas with game, shut yo' mouth up and listen
Recognize, it's a blessing, thankful just to be living

I got the Memphis City Blues
Ooo, I could feel it now
The neighborhood pimps introduced us to pimping
And everybody we know used to play in them streets
Oh man, oh man, oh man

I got the Memphis City Blues
Ooo, I could feel it now
The neighborhood pimps introduced us to pimping
(This is how they put it down)
Everybody we know used to play in them streets
(We know)
Oh man, oh man, oh man

I had the Memphis City Jones running through my bones
Way, way back with A+ beepers and gray phones
Even further back when I was just playing around the yard
Riding bikes and shit, falling and getting my legs scarred
In the music city, Memphis Tenn, they turned me into this
My dad and a couple of my friends, they played instruments
And when we used to roll to school at 16
We bumped shit like Bobby Womack and Al Green

Hell, I knew most of the old school shit from front to end
I would start to memorize, four fives at age 10
I come from a city where R&B run deep
And the blues was the music that paved the whole street
It was only natural that we would take the torch and run wit it
Be serious, but still have a little fun wit it
MJG, from a town that runs real deep
Ask B.B. King and Isaac Hayes on Bill Street

I got the Memphis City Blues
Ooo, I could feel it now
The neighborhood pimps introduced us to pimping
And everybody we know used to play in them streets
Oh man, oh man, oh man

I got the Memphis City Blues
Ooo, I could feel it now
The neighborhood pimps introduced us to pimping
(This is how they put it down)
Everybody we know used to play in them streets
(We know)
Oh man, oh man, oh man

Yeah, on that pimping man, me and G was born and raised
Commodores, O Jays, Frankie Beverly and Maze
Windows rolled down, no AC cause the gas low
Bread at a minimum, but still we found a place to go
North to the South at my nigga house, chiefing out
Skipping school, learning what the Memphis City Blues 'bout
Me and G and a whole bunch of others
Had a rocky road to travel just to make the world love us

'Cause it's the Memphis City, really to call it itty bitty
Would be an understatement
We got big ass, cash, and titties
Big pimping working and hurt, the pockets of big tippers
Side dippers and big jails to hide niggas
But we stayed out, hard times, we prayed bout 'em
Nigga step up talking that shit and I laid out 'em
MJG rappin' the Memphis Tennie, you and I could feel it
Pass me some of the henny

I got the Memphis City Blues
Ooo, I could feel it now
The neighborhood pimps introduced us to pimping
And everybody we know used to play in them streets
Oh man, oh man, oh man

I got the Memphis City Blues
Ooo, I could feel it now
The neighborhood pimps introduced us to pimping
(This is how they put it down)
And everybody we know used to play in them streets
(We know)
Oh man, oh man, oh man

Said I got the blues
Said I got the blues
Said I got the blues
Gotta Jones in my bones
And it won't leave me alone
I got the blues

. . .

Gangsta

[No lyrics]

. . .


And it's hard
Hard

Yeah, yeah, sittin' looking out my window, the streets I see ain't pretty
Sometimes I wonder if I was born rich with plenty
Money, and everyday was sunny didn't no rain fall
Life was beautiful like the colors of a rainbow

Would I be the same prim row, all my niggaz know
If I didn't have to learn to beat them streets and get that dough
What if I never witnessed killings with my own two eyes
Bussin' leave they own folks, layin' in the street to die

Life without respective if every second I was shakin'
'Cause I injected dope in my veins
Divide and strain, could I describe pain
Could I describe livin' life without desire mayne

Could I survive if I couldn't rap or entertain
Alive and free you can't beat it, who can you blame
My world is like a picture and the frame
The picture might change but the frame stays the same

Hustling waiting on tomorrow
Living life in the fast lane
'Cause no one ever knows
No one ever knows

Sitting here waiting on tomorrow
Putting paper away
'Cause no one ever knows
No one ever knows

What if you was on the other end of the bullet
When a killer wanna pull it would it seem like
The light flash in front of your face
Or would you run real slow like I ran in my dream like

Just the other day, I tried to be
A hero but it wasn't the side of me
Or maybe it just wasn't the time to be
But if the shoe had to fit then I would be

Ahead of the game playin' the part
I bring it all into the light from out of the dark
I hit the bat into the ball and out of the park
And live with the question alone that's meddlin' hard

What if you had to live under the bridge and do
Anything just to feed your kids
Think about that and the deed you did
The first thing that impress me kid, oh yes, you did

And I ain't even tryna choke your chain or pull your leg
And I ain't even tryna fuck with your head
And I ain't even tryna sweat this shit
Just spit these messages 'cause I'm blessed with it

What if you had the chance to be
Able to switch hands with me or anyone you see
And if you really wanna take it deep
This shit not quanum to me

For one and each and each and all
For the sci-fi mat, more religious superstitious
Politicious and all the listeners
With us this shit be cold as Christmas

So put your head to the sky say a prayer
For the sick and the old the young and the weak
For the bombs and the single moms
With six kids askin for something to eat

Hustling waiting on tomorrow
Living life in the fast lane
'Cause no one ever knows
No one ever knows

Sitting here waiting on tomorrow
Putting paper away
'Cause no one ever knows
No one ever knows

And when you get up they seem to hold you down
Down to the ground, gotta stay focused
With your eyes opened wide, se the sun rise
I keep my hands on the steering wheel when I'm creepin' up 75

Changing lanes on the regular talkin' on my cellular fast
Watching 'cause they wanna take me away
I'm just trying to feed my babies face
But I'm just hustling, I'm waiting on tomorrow

Hustling waiting on tomorrow
Living life in the fast lane
'Cause no one ever knows
No one ever knows

Sitting here waiting on tomorrow
Putting paper away
'Cause no one ever knows
No one ever knows

And the only way is to keep your head on right
Oh yeah

. . .


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