B-legit - D-Boy Blues lyrics

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B-legit - D-Boy Blues lyrics

[B-Legit] Aight, check game playboy It's like this here In this motherf**in game mayne sh** ain't always gon' be gravy playboy, see Thangs ain't always gon' go your way, y'knahmsayin? You better take the bitter with the sweet If you want to survive in these motherf**in streets But peep it doe I got kind in my mackin, I started to stackin in the Valle' You see I sent that b**h named, Sally To the track with a big fat sack of the crack And told her don't come back, until she did that Cause sh** was gettin funky out in the Bay You couldn't find a good plug, from here to L.A. Cause n***az get sheisty and sell you bunk And no scratch, but these gats, gon' equal funk You cain't be no punk, get slabbed in yo' truck And roll around town with the beat on pump Have yo' eardrums leakin from the beatin of the series 2's b**h... I got the D-Boy Blues [Chorus 2X: B-Legit] The blues b**h, the blues hoe I know some n***az in my crew, that done had 'em befo' I got the blues b**h, the blues hoe ("Stretched, I guess I got the D-Boy Blues") [B-Legit] My family get this call from this fool Who said he knew this fool, said this fool was cool Said that his daddy was a mason with a major supply And I can get some thangs as long as I buy 5 I really wasn't trippin cause I had the cash But if it goes down funky I'ma smoke yo' a** Hung up the phone and I was up, put the mill' on the tuck The speakerbox in the Chevy truck I'm at the spot a hundred G's, and my strap I done beeped this fool twice and he ain't call back Now where he at, schemin on Legit the Savage Wanna wrap me up and ride away with the cabbage Everybody startin to look like the FBI I'm hella paranoid dude, but now I'm hella high It ain't fly for this n***a from the H-I-double-L With no motherf**in dope to sell [Chorus] [B-Legit] I spend my last, ephedrine and some pirate's gla** I got my mask, whippin up some dope fast Or a little {?} 57 is a rag Hydronic ash sh** is known to keep the fiends blastin Mix together, cook it up on a Bronson burner Cause that fire have you higher than that Ike Turner Hours later, it's lookin good for this player Oil formed and I just got my third layer And if it's cool, yo' n***a yellin f** the collar Fo' times my mail, with the sales an hour Jackin off my cash, buyin up hella toys And all I'm f**in with is rich-a** white boys Took him out the gla** but he lookin dirty white Washed him off with the acetone to get him right Who got a light, and when yo' n***a lit the flame He'll bam-boof with the roof, and e'rythang Am I to blame, fo' n***az havin bad luck? Too much dirt, is that stoppin me from comin up? Well I don't know, but I'm po' and I need a few Got yo' boy stressed out, I got the D-Boy Blues [Chorus]