LIES - Intellectual

[Verse 1: Bloodybones]

Got my Glock .9, cock mine, pop a nigga, drop time

Shoot his ass to the floor, and rob him for every dime

I thought you already knew? I guess you don't really know

We rob you like a ho, split your wig, then we split your dough

So it don't even do no good to ball off, Player1's got the sawed-off, and will blow your ass off

Niggas that be splurgin', talkin' shit, just keep braggin'

They'll be puttin' your ass together, in the back of the meat wagon

Yeah, this is Player-

Day up at the tire shop, chiefin' hay, fucked up

Waitin' for twelve o'clock to come, hittin' the clubs, gettin' buck

Hoes, you got me fucked up with that prankin' shit

Bitch, you got it wrong, so you the first to get your wig split

No, I'm not no gangster, it's just a name they chose to give me

Gangsta Blac, a nigga from South Memphis, so it's in me

Mane, they should have known before they tried to do us, too thick

Comin' from the heart of Triple Six, we beat you to the streets

I keep a fuckin' itch-

Posse, clique, or gang, organization, fuck you, bring it on

Nigga, Lil' Corb, Teddy, P-Yo 'bout it, I'm down to get it goin

With them chrome thangs, plastic thangs, it don't make us none

Nigga made bitch, bitch made nigga, come and get you some

North Memphis Playa Click thick, ho, you ain't know

Now you know the sko, ho, we know how to win this battle, so

Bring your boys, bring your guns, we can shoot 'em up, fool

Killers from the Northside of town, mane, we ain't barrin' no bitch