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Soon as I pull up out the drive way With a bad bitch standin bout 5'8 Around my way Where I stay Nigga I rate Cause I skate Like Stevie Williams Tryna reach a million Niggas showin love when I leave the building Sold out shows at east pavillion Probably with your bitch if shes appealin My car in the house, why I need the ceilin? If she at the crib, then he is drillin Run up on me then the heat is spillin Why you mad nigga you can barley feed your children If that's your girl why is she revealin Her deeper feelins By be and stealin? This dick in her Then fix dinner Id put my log in But I don't hit inner? What's wrong, use the brotha that be the big spender Pussy nigga, you should go and switch genders You a female, I get weed mail, got so much work I need 3 scales Tell ya what I go and get detail? Letras de cancionesThen hit Houston's I eat well But I gotta ride with the 45, They don't like me and I don't know why... Them haters lookin at me, sideways, sideways, sideways Them haters lookin at me, sideways, sideways, sideways Them haters lookin at me, sideways, sideways, sideways Them haters lookin at me, sideways, sideways, sideways Them haters lookin at me... They lookin, Police think they cookin I sell it but I shouldn't If I was rich, trust me I wouldn't I'm not a women beater, but Keisha is who I'm pushin Sold a hundred pounds, only one of them was tookin If I see em then I'm bookin, like I got a show in Brooklyn Found some powder and some Kush'n And a pistol in the glove department with a loaded fuckin cartiridge For cowards that's woofin? If they paid me a million to be you for a hour I wouldn't I'm just a boy in the hood, who got that Cuban Goodin' I sold it for the five even though they said I couldn't They call me Mr. Tax-the-block, first not cause I rap a lot I see that I can rap a burn way faster than I rap a block? Plus this thing on my hip force a nigga to have to hop My partners like mechanics, you should see how fast they jack a car They try to tap my phone, so I threw my celly out And when I leave the crib mad, can somebody tell me why? Them haters lookin at me, sideways, sideways, sideways Them haters lookin at me, sideways, sideways, sideways Them haters lookin at me, sideways, sideways, sideways Them haters lookin at me, sideways, sideways, sideways Them haters lookin at me... Suckers hate so they screw face I'm high to def, no blue ray I'm shy as hell no lupe I'm bobby cox, I'm two brave Ride around in my new shades Clock two tres, for my crusade All my bullets fly with tips, just like T, I do clay I'm on the way to the UK Niggas do say I'm the new Jay I'm so polished, low mileage I'm a Freshman, but I don't go to college And I don't own a stylus I was on the violet When I'm on the pilot Like a DVD, when I feed the streets My songs is burnin like Eazy-E, Now you mad cause your girl wanna be with me And you know I'm a bang her like a Jeezy beat I can see you hatin, you don't need to speak You can have her back, I don't the freak Before a little nigga even get a chance to reach his peak Them haters lookin at me, sideways, sideways, sideways Them haters lookin at me, sideways, sideways, sideways Them haters lookin at me, sideways, sideways, sideways Them haters lookin at me, sideways, sideways, sideways Them haters lookin at me... They lookin... From Letras Mania