Slippin
(专辑: Salute Me Or Shoot Me 5 - 2015)
[Hook:] Don't let me catch you slipping, don't let me catch you slipping Don't let me catch you slipping, don't let me catch you slipping Caught a
nigga slipping outside of the
parking lot Young nigga popped his chain and ran in his pockets No mask so you know who got it But you scared to get it back cause you know they 'bout it Don't let me catch you slipping, don't let me catch you slipping Don't let me catch you slipping, don't let me catch you slipping Cause you move to Hollywood you ain't good out there Send the
Pirus get your shit took out there Bring a
nigga shit straight back to Atlanta Now them Clay County niggas got kush out there Heard he in the
H, I
call J. Prince Jr You ain't from the
streets you just rap a
lot, nigga Booked for a
show in the
middle of the
hood You ain't good out there, this is Chi-Town, nigga Asshole by nature, fuck it I'm Trae Run that chain, nigga, like it's a
relay You really pussy that's what the
streets say Fuck who you know nigga, you gotta pay Out in PA, fucking with cook Heard your favorite rapper got his AP took I'm seeing green dots, putting money on books If he broke he hating young nigga get money Fucking with the
white girl, Playboy bunny Got them niggas looking funny have them runnn' in your shit Caught 'em slipping pumping gas, nigga you a
sweet leak Got robbed by the
bloods now you running with the
crips – Nah You niggas ain't bool Imma call troop, he gon' call big you Now the
guns all on you nigga deja vu You a
question mark gangster – DJ Clue For that Cuban link chain and that big Rolex You in the
wrong scenario – Tribe Called Quest On the
jet boy mission all our clips got extensions Trying to hold onto your chain, you gon' end up missing [Hook] I
got shooters in the
D, I
ain't talking bout the
Pistons Grand Theft Auto, send them homies on a
mission Pay yo' ass a
visit bragging bout your low ticket Shoulda kept your mouth closed, now we know your business Lying on your crib like an infant, kill you in an instant I
want the
shit for the
chicken, I
just hit a
sweet lick, Charlie Sheen we winning Ten toes down with the
yoppa, I'm a
beast No V-103 like Greg I'm street Don't give up the
money, then it's RIP Sending head shots like the
DMV Half asleep, split your wig like the
red sea Got stripes in the
street like a
referee Have a
nigga running like a
refugee Show you how to rob, got the
recipe Do your homework, find out where he be at Where he hide the
money put the D
at Run up in yo' shit we gon' seize that Then break it down on the g
pad Better be, boo you don't need that Waka Flocka Flame catch me hanging where the
G's at Rob a
dope boy, I
ain't worrying 'bout prison Can't call the
police 'bout them bricks in the
kitchen [Hook]