[Pastor Troy:]nnKD had called and gave me the wordnSaid this nigga had ten birds, in Augusta for the weeknFrom the islandsnAs soon as K told me this shit, I started smilingnCause all I could see was money pilingnShit, on top of moneynNow, ?? with the money for the week, and ChesapeakenThe heat made my nigga take a breaknIf I could catch all 10 of them bitches, and I don't look suspiciousnI'ma sell the fucking quart for the ?? the ha hanAs I told K bye bye, he shot me advicenIf you gone do it nigga do it nigga, fuck thinking twicenThis is ya nigga for lifenGo fight 'em fire for firenHit my hip when you finish said his calling card expirednHung up the phone, contemplating on who help me do itnThere's Kia and Jessica and then Rhonda truittnNow Jessica to stupid and Kia lie to much,nI guess I'll take Rhonda, cause Rhonda don't give a fucknBut first I got to pump her upnI'm give her what, 10 g'snTell her if she really love me she would do this for menEternally we'll be together for better or for worsenBut first we got to take these niggas to the hearsenBurst in they shit, get the bricks come back outnI'm be waiting in the chevy, you know I'm ready to take em' outnIf they front 'cha baby, come on, we make it we richnCome on, shit, Rhonda, my down ass bitchnn[Chorus: Help me Rhonda, help help me Rhonda (in background)]nI'm the realist bitchnI'm mo' realer than realitynFuck that dumb shit, it take nothing to a casualtyn[Repeat 4X]nnWell I'm the realist bitchnI'm mo realer than reality (well uh huh)nFuck that dumb shit (uh huh)nIt take nothing to a casualty (what)nFBI be after me, quareter ki in my womanly (uh huh)nComing back from St. CroixnFirst lady to Pastor Troy (well come on)nEven I'm a Georgia Boy, cause boy I'm ready jack (well uh huh)nAll you got to say is where them pussy niggas hangin' at (well uh huh)nDrop it like a maniac (uh huh)nSet it off by myself (well uh huh)nFuck them pussy motherfuckers and who ever elsenn[Pastor Troy:]nnOkay baby, you set it off, there will be no more living singlenI'll be ready to tie the knot after we lick them for them blocksnGrab the glock, and shot out the lot, and keep on bustin'nThen I'm gone bust in cusin' and leave his punk ass fa' nothingnNow what's in store for you is 10 g'sn(That's enough for me, I don't give a fat fucknwhat's the fucking hold up?)nAbout this time I saw a truck, to a familiarnK had said them motherfuckers had a truck similiarnPassengers are him and her, playing some reggae shitnTwo a.k.'s, me and my bitch, one false move we gone spitnGuess the driver thank he slick, dred head motherfuckernGuess he most be know my bitch, Rhonda watch them motherfuckersnThat owe 'em money, that what, with K.D. & ChesapeakenHeard that when he spoke with me and now her folk wanna smoke menIf he had the keys all I can do now is wondernBut for now me and Rhonda filling 'em up with the thundernn[Chorus: (Repeat 4X)]
Please consider supporting this site by
Clicking Here and Bookmarking whenever you search and shop Amazon.
It costs you nothing but it supports us and gives us credit and we appreciate it greatly.