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100 bars - ya boy lyrics

one, two, three to the fo’
b-tch i’m a pimp, i don’t speak to no hoes
you n-ggas never match mc’s with no flows
it don’t add up, like me with no dough
i swear to god, just last year i was broke
on the block selling dope, watching my n-ggas snort c0ke (now)
my life changed, from the planes to the boats
from the chains to the clothes, don’t need game for these hoes
they just hop in the range and we go
switching lanes, baby go’n give me brains on the low
never lame, born and raised in the sco
n-ggas hate, but they won’t say a thing to me though
it’s like that, and as a matter of fact
i got powers with the powder, harry potter the crack
every hour i devour, money shower with that
lemonheads in my ears, how sour is that?
real sour, i break sh-t down like twin towers
nabbed ya’ b-tch, had the b-tch, b-tch holla
it ain’t ’bout dollars? i don’t want to hear about it
never square, boy this n-gga right here about it
call me ya boy, for short call me yb
don’t try me, carry gun like i.d
but f-ck guns, i keep n-ggas beside me
and we’ll beat a punk n-gga down like rodney
feel i’m the king when it come to this rap thing
if i ain’t have a mic, i probably clap things
or post all night, serving things to the crack fiends
boy, i got runners like the coach of the track team
yes, i’m focused, vision clear as a flat screen
you broke n-ggas not eating you’re fasting
i’m telling you: all the hoods, they feel dude
they like, “pac gone, but f-ck it, he’ll do”
a lot of jealous n-ggas, they be trying to k!ll dude
because the boy pockets green as mildew
and in the west, if i ain’t the best
or at least second, i’ll put a weapon up to my chest (yeah)
haters don’t want to see me breathe
cause they know i got next like mtv
they can’t see me like bootleg dvds
’cause i got more pads than the mpc
catch me dippin’ in a jag, seaweed green
i’m in a league of my own, you in the pee-wee league
when i was broke, still my grill at least three gs
now i talk with a smile, let the vvs breathe
it’s ya boy, i represent the cdp
you a ho dog, you be were the weenies be
you the man when the east coast talk about ya’
buzzin’ in the streets, each coast speak about ya’
that’s me, and if you ain’t here
it’s ’bout to get ugly, like freeway’s beard
it’s the streets, you don’t get a lot of leeway here
it get hotter than a motherf-ckin’ heat wave here
trust me, boy, it’s a lot of heat-play here
leave you m.i.a. like the heat play here
wear guns to surp-ss the hatin’
tie the mac ’round my neck, it’s a fashion statement
i laugh at you clowns, thinkin’ i’m the same dude
i’m not as quiet as i was back in grade school
i’m much sicker, with an addiction to spray tools
and like a game, i’m just dyin’ to play fools
so run up if you think i’m a chump
i’ll leave your body in the trunk, smellin’ just like skunk
i’ll leave your head in your lap, right after i dump
even ashton kutcher couldn’t make your nucka a punk (ha)
i be thuggin’ till i’m at the pearly tall gates
’cause i’ve been thuggin’ since 20s had a small face
i’m still thuggin’ and, 20s got a large face
ya boy, the black ’06 version of scarface
and the bay is where i made my name
where them n-ggas go dumb like damon wayans
yeah it’s hyphy, but some n-ggas, they be goin all out
so i don’t go dumb ’cause the gun might fall out
trust me, dog, i’m not the n-gga you should call out
i’m looking at your t–th and i’ma knock ’em all out
twice as big as i was befo’
and the radio won’t even play my song no mo’
but it’s cool, i’m in the streets like a hydrant though
so when they ask who the best, they reply “ya yo
that n-gga ya boy, that boy got a fiery flow”
hoes tryin’ to make me they man, my reply is “no”
yes, you can get on your knees and blow
and put my thing in your mouth, but easy though
a hot boy, i don’t sound like weezy though
got snow, but i don’t think i got a jeezy flow
i’m the truth, i could go r&b and blow
but this rap game’s so f-ckin’ easy though
i’m the pizza man, i got cheese and dough
my h-town n-ggas got me off leanin’ dro
n-ggas think i’m a ho, ti’l i squeeze the fo’
and that’ll change they mind like keyshia cole
and i’m single, somebody let keyshia know
that i break backs and leave girls leanin’, yo (ha)
the girls choose ’cause my p-n-s better
not to mention i’m hot like phoenix weather
not to mention you cold, you won’t even go gold
when i drop, i’ma go platinum times fo’
that’s fo’ million sales from florida to wales
’cause i got more bars than four million jails
and i’m holding the twelve gauge for you lames
aim at your brain, leave your membrane rearranged
if you don’t think i’m the truth, you r-t-rded
record labels, get the biddin’ war started

- ya boy lyrics

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