{yella talkin}
My dog gonna be home with a story to tell
Ya see, yall know what Im talkin bout
{yella boy}
Me rat a tat, tat tat tat, on you dog hoes
Me rat a tat, tat tat tat, on you dog hoes
Twerk all right getty up eddie bow
Bounce for that outfit twerk for that elflic
Brawl for that polaroid then go get ya two slugs
I don't have nothin if I don't have you
Like whitney even said, I will always love ya to
Bounce for that outfit the ones who mean it
Wont ya bounce for that outfit and don't ya be greedy
Don't don't be greedy, don't don't cha be greedy
Shhh, bout to make me go to far
Unless ya bout the whole third they called
Ya see, ya wont some nine seven lincolns
With boo-koo sound, you can hear us if ya comin around
Its best ya get the right kind of disk to listen to me
I want means and tina marie
Its best you get a built in alarm cuz I got me a gat and
Im a try to set the whole third on the back
Ya get it, got to get it right nigga, handle ya business
Oops, there they go to rouxs five o
Stash-o left his bundle sittin on the ramp
Stash-o bundle must be dippin out the cut
Stash-o bundle must be sittin on the ramp
Im always jumpin shop never dressin like a champ
Im up early in the mornin on the breakfast smokin weed
Im bout to go to regal scoop, fresh pair of arenas
I went on deli shake and dressed mighty gentle
I said look at my snaps and bout another rental
I brought my nigga to nickels cuz that was a school
Tellin all them ninth ward niggas that the third ward rules
I walked into the school and standin on the yard
A chick snuck and asked me was I from the third ward
Niggas came out the buildin and they was bootin me up
I grabbed the clip out my pockets and made them cowards duck
I told my ol lady I'll be back to see
I went to mac melph calio a booker t
So they pilled up in a trooper I was gasin it
Boo-koo, aks, macs pumps and shit and i
Was so darn able goin out st. claud
With my kangol to the back representin the third ward
Chorus:
Don't ya be greedy don't don't be greedy
Don't don't cha be greedy
Me rat a tat, tat tat tat, on you dog hoes
Me rat a tat, tat tat tat, on you dog hoes
Twerk all right getty up eddie bow
Bounce for that outfit twerk for that elflic
Brawl for that polaroid then go get ya two slugs
I don't have nothin if I don't have you
Like whitney even said, I will always love ya to
Bounce for that outfit the ones who mean it
Wont ya bounce for that outfit and don't ya be greedy
Don't don't be greedy, don't don't cha be greedy
{yella boy}
Higgy hop the fence, put the guns in the grass
You can see the rep smoke poppin out they ass
See we caught seven niggas slippin in the class room
Tryna jump out the window but they couldnt and
I don't mind dyin I see that shit
Five niggas got killed lets go hop the fence quick
Chorus:
{yella boy}
On the real like a man you gots to be real
If you hangin in that third, you bests be out to kill
Cuz we walk by, fight by, drive by to
Hang a forty five and a ap medal to
Bounce baby bounce or boot up bitch
Where dey at get the gat first
I gots to take a piss
Im a magnolia man, a calio king
Im servin boo-koo dog hoes out the melpomene
I know ya thought I wouldn't be back
But ya can't keep me down,don't forget about the u
And the cah money clown, twerk all right
Getty up eddie bow, Im a serve ya body up when
I get in the shower, Im a good lookin rapper
I aint tryna front, Im a good lookin rapper I aint
Tryna stunt, next week Im gettin the rental and
The royal blue, with the white interior and gold daytons to
Go dj, that's my dj, go dj, that's my dj
Chorus:
Me rat a tat, tat tat tat, on you dog hoes
Me rat a tat, tat tat tat, on you dog hoes
Don't ya be greedy don't don't be greedy
Don't don't cha be greedy
{yella boy}
Me and my dj, mannie fresh we done shut the pieces
We fuckin wives, we fuckin daughers, and even nieces
These hoes like mosquitos suckin dick and lickin nuts
Fuckin, doggin, leavin, makin em run behind that dick
I be servin em puttin em up cuz Im a fool from that three
Yella boy, mannie fresh, we win the contest
I must confess we rank as the best
I spin the bin with hot bullets I hope ya got yo vest
Nigga, on the real in this nine seven area
I be in the n-o-l-i-a area if ya scared
Ya end up in the back of the dumpster
With two to the motherfuckin head
Go dj, go dj, go dj, that's my dj, that's my dj
Chorus:{from last verse}
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