Boys on da Cut

Lyrics

I woke up quick, at around two
 Jumped in my Benz, picked up DJ Screw
 
 Boys out there, makin' them tapes
 Separate the real niggas from the fakes
 My boy just got out, did a flat ten
 And he just can't stop talkin' bout that pen
 My best friend but time destroys all men
 Now he don't give a fuck about goin' again
 It ain't all good but I ain't missin' no money
 I'm just a thug motherfucker and you can't take nothin' from me
 Somebody once said they wanna see me dead
 The next week they found the boy with two holes in his head
 I break bread with my killas in the H-TX
 It's the SP-Mex, in the all black stretch
 Known for my purity, pride and security
 A house costs as much as one piece of my jewelry
 'Cuz the boys on the cut don't give a fuck
 You come talkin' that shit, your eyes get shut
 Boys out there, slangin' that yay
 Only pussy motherfuckers say that crime don't pay
 'Cuz the boys on the cut don't give a fuck
 You come talkin' that shit, your eyes get shut
 Boys out there, slangin' that yay
 Only pussy motherfuckers say that crime don't pay
 The time has come and the day is here
 Two thousand one, is my motherfuckin' year
 I come from the head, it's the boy named Los
 The one that got everybody on they toes
 Straight up and still I sell dope for a livin'
 In the form of a compact disc, fuck prison
 No more savin' cans, no more collectin' pennies
 I'll have your fuckin' clique hollerin' "Who killed Kenny?"
 For my gangsta bitch that I just met
 She ridin' my dick, chuckin' up her set
 I dance with the wolves, this is for my hood
 Got the whole world fiendin' for the dope I cut
 'Cuz the boys on the cut don't give a fuck
 You come talkin' that shit, your eyes get shut
 Boys out there, slangin' that yay
 Only pussy motherfuckers say that crime don't pay
 ♪
 Fire, we on fire
 We ain't gone stops droppin' these bombs
 Fire, we on fire
 We ain't gone stops droppin' these bombs
 I was twelve years old when I did my first jack
 And I don't think that bitch ever got her purse back
 With fifteen rocks, I bought my first car
 Cooked my first batch of dope in a pickle jar
 It's like uno, dos, tres, young Happy Perez
 Got me sellin' this dope to anyone on two legs
 Boys talkin' down but I give two fucks
 Step in my face, I put you in an all-black tux
 Layin' in a casket, hard as a rock
 My lead, hit'cha head and make it snap, crackle, and pop
 Now how many times do I have to tell ya?
 All my life I've been called a failure
 My freestyle flow, is so untouchable
 I just got out the county jail two months ago
 Now I'm in the studio, just like Julio
 In the city where them bitches never won a Super Bowl
 Man I can't stop, I'ma keep on droppin'
 Seven of my bitches at the same mall shoppin'
 At the galleria, tell me have you seen her?
 I fuck a country singer and a Houston ballerina
 Plus a fine ass China, I used to be a dreamer
 Now I bought my Mom and Dad a navigator and a beamer
 Leave a mark in this game, Aztec Indian
 I don't give a fuck 'cuz every month I make a million
 Fire, we on fire
 We ain't gone stops droppin' these bombs
 

Audio Features

Song Details

Duration
04:33
Key
4
Tempo
82 BPM

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