(feat. Chris Ward) [talking] Yeah-yeah (yes sir), yeah (this your nig) C-Wig Ya dig (ya dig), oh-oh I'm tripping (yeah), oh yeah They already know though shit, I'm out of line man This is Volume 2, this is what the fuck we do Nigga I told you that shit huh (do you hear this motherfucking shit), yeah-yeah listen [Chris Ward] A lot of hoe niggaz speaking war, but really mean peace Fuck hibernating, cause shit I am a mean beast I love the South, I was raised on these mean streets I run through dirty turf, and stil I come out with clean cleats Oh you looking for some work, in the green sheets Fuck that, I'll get you some work to stack some green sheets Cars to hustle, you don't know how much time I spent On the grind trying to structure, and design my print I'm the one behind the chrome grill, behind the Bent' And you can see the pinky ring, on the grill behind the tint Along with that the bracelet, and the charm got freeze A lot of niggaz play hard, but softer than hot cheese I'm C-Wigg, or C-Weez The same one that told y'all, he's fresher than Free-Breeze I'm stil most wanted, stil most hated My mail come heavily steadily, whether or not it's postdated And cause I'm out on bond, they say I'm a mobster But I ain't looking for trouble, I'm just looking to prosper You might catch me eating chicken and shrimp, fetticini pasta S.U.C,'s my click, and M.O.B. is the roster I stay's on my grizzlet, because I got's to One day I'm Dickie suited, the next day it's LaCasta But if you'd like, you could come to my la casa Then you'd understand why, I walk and talk with a posture That let's you know, that I'm one of the freshest But if you play with me, I'll leave you and your crew stretched out on stretchers nigga You ain't gotta like my kind Matter of fact, you ain't gotta like my rhymes That's why everytime I spit it, I make sure you feel it And let these haters know, I got a trifling mind bitch [talking] Ha-ha, that's real spit (for real) Like 40-Water would say, just listen [Hook x2] I grind cause I gotta grind, shine cause I gotta shine I'm the reason that they wearing shades, cause I got 'em blind [talking] Ha-ha you know, it don't stop mayn I do this all the time mayn, for real you know [Chris Ward] I ain't come here looking for love, I came looking for a check But at the same time, I ain't even looking for respect Cause I take what's mine, and that's what's good to me And there's nothing, that these wanna-be rappers can do to me Real niggaz feel my shit, cause I spit it truthfully That's why when it comes out, it sounds beautifully Real niggaz feel my shit, cause I spit it truthfully That's why when it comes out, it sounds beautifully Fa sho, the Yellowstone Spokesman's in the house Whatever you need get at me, in my neck of the South I got ya [talking] Naw on the for real though When you in my neck of the South, I got ya nigga [Hook]
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(feat. Chris Ward) [talking] Yeah-yeah (yes sir), yeah (this your nig) C-Wig Ya dig (ya dig), oh-oh I'm tripping (yeah), oh yeah They already know though shit, I'm out of line man This is Volume 2, this is what the fuck we do Nigga I told you that shit huh (do you hear this motherfucking shit), yeah-yeah listen [Chris Ward] A lot of hoe niggaz speaking war, but really mean peace Fuck hibernating, cause shit I am a mean beast I love the South, I was raised on these mean streets I run through dirty turf, and stil I come out with clean cleats Oh you looking for some work, in the green sheets Fuck that, I'll get you some work to stack some green sheets Cars to hustle, you don't know how much time I spent On the grind trying to structure, and design my print I'm the one behind the chrome grill, behind the Bent' And you can see the pinky ring, on the grill behind the tint Along with that the bracelet, and the charm got freeze A lot of niggaz play hard, but softer than hot cheese I'm C-Wigg, or C-Weez The same one that told y'all, he's fresher than Free-Breeze I'm stil most wanted, stil most hated My mail come heavily steadily, whether or not it's postdated And cause I'm out on bond, they say I'm a mobster But I ain't looking for trouble, I'm just looking to prosper You might catch me eating chicken and shrimp, fetticini pasta S.U.C,'s my click, and M.O.B. is the roster I stay's on my grizzlet, because I got's to One day I'm Dickie suited, the next day it's LaCasta But if you'd like, you could come to my la casa Then you'd understand why, I walk and talk with a posture That let's you know, that I'm one of the freshest But if you play with me, I'll leave you and your crew stretched out on stretchers nigga You ain't gotta like my kind Matter of fact, you ain't gotta like my rhymes That's why everytime I spit it, I make sure you feel it And let these haters know, I got a trifling mind bitch [talking] Ha-ha, that's real spit (for real) Like 40-Water would say, just listen [Hook x2] I grind cause I gotta grind, shine cause I gotta shine I'm the reason that they wearing shades, cause I got 'em blind [talking] Ha-ha you know, it don't stop mayn I do this all the time mayn, for real you know [Chris Ward] I ain't come here looking for love, I came looking for a check But at the same time, I ain't even looking for respect Cause I take what's mine, and that's what's good to me And there's nothing, that these wanna-be rappers can do to me Real niggaz feel my shit, cause I spit it truthfully That's why when it comes out, it sounds beautifully Real niggaz feel my shit, cause I spit it truthfully That's why when it comes out, it sounds beautifully Fa sho, the Yellowstone Spokesman's in the house Whatever you need get at me, in my neck of the South I got ya [talking] Naw on the for real though When you in my neck of the South, I got ya nigga [Hook]
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