TLC MAG - Trippin' Lyrics

If you know me you know I don't do the talkin
Yo dog speakin dirty Ima have to go and walk em
I dont really like driving dog I'd rather be driven
Chris Walken said it best so I'm movin how I'm livin
Said he want 3 so I get a quarter back
Plug got more so I gotta double back
Dance on the money and I'm finna shuffle back
Big ass 40 push yo f*ckin muzzle back
Dan said never put yo faith in people always talkin money
But the reality is they pockets empty hella funny
I was down up on my knuckles movin baggies like a dummy
Had to boss up n Floss up myself man f*ck a honey
Aint nobody ever hand a nigga nothing
Real boss shit I built myself up into something
Now it's muhf*ckas out here claiming that we cousins
Where was you when I aint know nothing bout abundance
That's crazy
Yo mans talking VVs
Aye bro I got the tester
Pray to god it's fake cause Ima play him like a jester
Sippin on some juice posted with my nigga Nestor
Ran off on the plug the dummy thought my name was Chester
You the type to get the dodi pack and let it fester
Im the type of hustla move it pack it ship it western, Aye
For the
Dough
Ima stretch em
He tried to kick one he didn't think that I would catch him
Yall be f*ckin on some hoes be lookin like some chuckee cheese
Aint nun round me but bad lil babies Masri
Wa matat hasli
Wahed mithli
Qad ana Yemeni
My brother fall he sick you best believe I got that remedy
Fake
Fake love
Treachery
Dick heads turn snake because of jealousy
Mix it all with a strap you got a recipe
Don't talk about you sliding cause I'm bussin who you sendin me
Don't smoke ya own supply they say it for a reason
In the dope game, aint no pre and aint no post season
Slug hit his chest
Took his breath and left him wheezin
Put that nigga on ice
Like a chain I left him freezin
I be damned if I get killed before I win
Niggas love to cap like some kids who play pretend
Count a dub
For the mornin then at night I count again
Count the money like some fingers but I'm always over 10
Bitch