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Intro Video (MV)




Performed By: Spider Loc
Featuring: DJ Drama
Length: 2:56
Written by: Tyree Cinque Simmons




Spider Loc - Intro Lyrics
Official




[ Featuring DJ Drama ]

Hahaha
I heard somebody say "Dram where you been at?"
I said "You ain't been paying attention to the game?"
My DNA's everywhere, Tune please remind these niggas

Kiss more, care less, bare chest, tattoos
Big chain, fat jewels, coupe on Shaq shoes
That dude bad news, Rob, Hijack? Cool
Black heart, black tool, crack on that spoon
Crack on that spoon, backbone don't bend
Them shoot at Tune, that boy don't flinch
I don't shoot back, I pay for that hit
And wait for that call, that say "We caught that fish"
Homeboy got life, slap on that wrist
We bout' to start puttin' price tags on them bricks
Kidnap wifey, get facts from that bitch
My bitch hyphy, relax on that dick
Shake hands with killas, break bread with homies
Not with these hoes, that's a threat not a warning
I'ma Pimp under pressure, got the Smith & the Wesson
Got the A & the K, tell them niggas to spell it
I'm the shit and the urine, smell and whiff and inhale it
Quick to snap it and flash and get that picture developed
I cut your head off and wear it, I break your legs get to steppin'
She suck the red off the cherry, bandanna red, bloody marry
I smoke a blunt in the mornin', I smoke a blunt after that
I give some bread to my homies, I don't want none of it back
I wear the crown when I sleep, I wear the crown when I f*ck
I tear it down when I f*ck, I read the bible at 1
I play the hand that was dealt, I got a deck full of aces
I gave birth to your style, I need a check for my labor (Damn!)
I need a tech with a laser for the hecklers and haters
I ain't sure about heaven, I need a recommendation
Yea, incarceration with molesters and rapers
Late at night in they cell, hear them confessin' their prayers
I'm a professional player, intellectual player
It's about a ton a piece, for the testicle weighers
Undetectable sprayers, make a mess like some crayons
Dead men can't talk, and to heck with a Seance
Be expectin' the chaos, be expectin' the chaos
Young Money mothaf*cker, we expect you to pay us
I'm gone

Depending on how I'm feelin'
This might be the last time I tell you niggas
It's about the quality, it's about the streets
But most importantly, it's about the music
DJ Drama!
Volume 2!
Tahahah
Oh yeah, I'm still here
Don't you ever forget, suckas!
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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Hahaha
I heard somebody say "Dram where you been at?"
I said "You ain't been paying attention to the game?"
My DNA's everywhere, Tune please remind these niggas

Kiss more, care less, bare chest, tattoos
Big chain, fat jewels, coupe on Shaq shoes
That dude bad news, Rob, Hijack? Cool
Black heart, black tool, crack on that spoon
Crack on that spoon, backbone don't bend
Them shoot at Tune, that boy don't flinch
I don't shoot back, I pay for that hit
And wait for that call, that say "We caught that fish"
Homeboy got life, slap on that wrist
We bout' to start puttin' price tags on them bricks
Kidnap wifey, get facts from that bitch
My bitch hyphy, relax on that dick
Shake hands with killas, break bread with homies
Not with these hoes, that's a threat not a warning
I'ma Pimp under pressure, got the Smith & the Wesson
Got the A & the K, tell them niggas to spell it
I'm the shit and the urine, smell and whiff and inhale it
Quick to snap it and flash and get that picture developed
I cut your head off and wear it, I break your legs get to steppin'
She suck the red off the cherry, bandanna red, bloody marry
I smoke a blunt in the mornin', I smoke a blunt after that
I give some bread to my homies, I don't want none of it back
I wear the crown when I sleep, I wear the crown when I f*ck
I tear it down when I f*ck, I read the bible at 1
I play the hand that was dealt, I got a deck full of aces
I gave birth to your style, I need a check for my labor (Damn!)
I need a tech with a laser for the hecklers and haters
I ain't sure about heaven, I need a recommendation
Yea, incarceration with molesters and rapers
Late at night in they cell, hear them confessin' their prayers
I'm a professional player, intellectual player
It's about a ton a piece, for the testicle weighers
Undetectable sprayers, make a mess like some crayons
Dead men can't talk, and to heck with a Seance
Be expectin' the chaos, be expectin' the chaos
Young Money mothaf*cker, we expect you to pay us
I'm gone

Depending on how I'm feelin'
This might be the last time I tell you niggas
It's about the quality, it's about the streets
But most importantly, it's about the music
DJ Drama!
Volume 2!
Tahahah
Oh yeah, I'm still here
Don't you ever forget, suckas!
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Tyree Cinque Simmons
Copyright: Lyrics © CLARKJAY PRODUCTIONS, INC.

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