Ghostown - Next in Line lyrics

DJ On Point: Brand new sh** from Cig...We call this one Next in Line Cig: Yo Dolla Bills, they hatin' on me man, but they envy the kid, I can see It in they eyes...Ghostown man, C-I-G, so I gotta let em' know...lemme talk To em' real quick man DJ On Point: Shout out to the whole G's up T's down street team...Lets go! [Cig] Cig's next in line, call it a take over Buck fitty face lift, call it a make over Cig's the future, these fakes are over Cause real raps here, tell em' the break's over I chug jugs at pubs, cop the dice that pa** Plug scrubs with snubs, pop the dice that pa** Ride out on fake thugs, see the trouble flair When Cig's been k**in' clubs since Doug and Double Dare Ask around and they'll tell you who's flyer Look, Cig's gutter and his flow's pure fire Admire, I'm made out of 10 girls desires One's family and one's a damn liar The hood won't respect these local frauds I'll put the tech straight to their vocal chords I'll leave your shirt the color of Mountain Dew Code Red I'm swervin' lanes on the Boulevard, catchin' road head, yeah! [Chorus] Outside a storm is brewing (Yeah!) I can hear the sound (Come on, Come on!) And inside my heart is beating out loud (You can't f** with me cause I'm Next in line, no!) Outside a storm is brewing (Yeah!) I can hear the sound (Come on, Come on!) And inside my heart is beating out loud (You can't f** with me cause I'm Next in line, no!) [Cig] You got a lot of nerve to claim you're merkin' me I get head on first dates, ain't a b**h jerkin' me Lookin' in the mirror you ought to feel lucky It don't crack in half, or laugh cause you're ugly Your team is garbage, you're never seein' me I'll use your CD as a f**in' Frisbee And that's the only way you're gettin' air play I get more head then priests on Ash Wednesday We got clips that'll smother your vest That'll go through you and out your brothers chest My clips are the truth, they ain't hard to digest I'm next in line, top 10 at best A black eye got you wearin' shades My crew packs blades that'll shape up your fades I'm makin' hits, and lookin to get played And bangin' different chicks like I'm lookin' for AIDS, holla! [Chorus] [Cig] Cig the kid's raw, I ain't got no flaws In the South Shore, my outlaws are breakin' laws Broads wanna take a piece out of me like Jaws Chicks wanna sit on my lap like I'm Santa Clause We're breakin' jaws, and we're takin' yours Why clap you when I could give you rounds of applause? Either pullin' on scores, or pullin' in who*es Leavin' broads in nothin' but Victoria's draws This kids getting more head then clogged pores I stop at red lights, but the rims won't pause These cats are p**y, won't exchange their paws They know the G Town cause, armed and ready for war All eyes on the kid when I stroll through doors My 4's startin' draws under my velour's Y'all talk but stay strapless like push up bras You wanted beef? now you eat your meals through straws, f*ggot! [Chorus]