856 - Put Ya Hands Up (feat. Davey Dutch & Merc) Lyrics

You need proof that we're blazin'
It's not good enough
It's gettin hot in here
And the roof just caved in
Half man half amazing
With a bad ass temper
Who should be locked down and caged
Cus the cops bust em
And swat can't rush em
And even with a ten foot pole
You couldn't touch em
Cus I train my brain to refrain
From thinking of the same o same
Cus people take no shame in
Bitting and reciting
Like it ain't no thing
That's why I go against the grain
And roll with the We Drop gang
All opposed get found slang
Found in the ally
Hung with they own chain
Patient with the hustle
Eventually the dough came
And then the hoes came
Talking bout they want to
Lick and eats my dick and nuts
Like it was egg rolls and lo mein
Gassed up like propane
Dancing like soul train
Put ya hands up
But not for the song
For the forty four long
Already drawn
In my palm
Gone is the days
Of us not leaving you embalmed
And you dead wrong like Big
If you think we ain't gettin on
Put ya hands up
But not for the song
For the forty four long
Already drawn
In my palm
Gone is the days
Of us not leaving you embalmed
And you dead wrong like Big
If you think we ain't gettin on
All these funny as niggas
Stay shouting my name
Makes no sense
How I drop em like loose change
Twist ya body all fast
Like I was rolling a dutch
We Drop is the label
Merc is f*ckin too much
Told you I was sick
Like I was spittin the S.A.R.S
I'm a hood celebrity
About to be a big rap star
F*ck ya time
Cus you wasting mine
Gotta smoke thirty L's
Just to relax my mind
One more time
I'm here for nothing
But the cake
I ain't bitch nigga
So I don't roll with the Jake
Stop the tape
Cus I'm shitting on cats
Gotta burn mark on the map
So realize where I'm at
School time is over
Yo I'm moving too fast
Twenty one now
Already head of my class
Make no moves fast
Or I'm quick to blast
Told you I'm in the game
Just to get this cash
Mother f*cker
Now I've been doing this
Some way back when
Like when
When niggas rock green fatigues
And blast mac tens
So why niggas trying to stop me from living
We grown men
You need to realize
Y'all lil children
Ya cyph huddle gang
Think you got an empire
My camp bubble rhymes like coke
And set the streets on fire
That some hot shit
Plug it in ya drop
Youngin knock this
Gold diggers sniffed the wealth
And now they wanna jock us
Everybody want a ticket to fame
Whether family a seed or a chick with your last name
So stay on your P's and Q's
You don't wanna be thirty five
Like hammer
Selling cars that's used
Now the block got me back again
Dime drug trafficking
Strappin up these gats
Like I'm suiting up for Pakistan