Chris "The Glove" Taylor - It Ain't Nothing Nice lyrics

[Hook] It ain't nothin nice {*repeat 8X*} [Ras Ka**] Son I be skimmin through the billboard top for an R&B album Wonderin my outcome Want the fat triangle but I'm real with or without one Cause I'ma still sport wrinkles on my new jeans Smokin beadies to the pink stream On a microphone, I'm like the booty Michael Corleone 36 zone The homies always told me to be the man, understand If n***as is playin hardball, then why the f** you throwin underhand See only the small modest mark time That's the reason that bustas still sellin nickel sacks and ganja You two bit hustla, I'm the grown brother like clockers Went and give you five cents to put cheese on the whopper So steer near clear a mere near rear bia I'm rollin with the crowbar clear Still wearin my favorite suit like I was a**hole naked Now fake it till you make it or take it n***a [Hook] [D.B.A. Flip] My motions in school going through a whole child Ya pushin rocks on the block cause the spots what ya found I made my dough and I made sure I kept my name on tight Layin low in the day and turn the day by moonlight They out of sight when they go wild Just to let them ??? service cluck as they stroll by Lowkey the smokies on my name Ain't no slippin when they crippin cause I done peeped game Now I had closed, but then they ran me out I sold my last ounce, then I bounced to my baby mama's house Kind of bill couldn't get no kind of deal Had to be out on them streets, hurry up and make my sales But now it's on cause I'm grown and I'm still a G But it's ??? I sell my crack by the tracks in this industry Remember me when you hustle runnin right do or die on the side flip for life b*atch [Hook 8x] [Ras Ka**] Now it's either give me the money, give me the power Or give me 4.25 an hour, what the f** you think I'm gone do To be honest with you, I gonna get mine Cause I known n***as thats college graduates that's broke Askin for dimes and nickel sacks n***a give me that and I give you some You watch my back I watch yours I do rap chores while n***as be looking for the rapture I don't understand cause n***as gots to capture Your own, now keep your eyes on the prize Cause Clinton is peril, n***a you might as well be chimpin I wanna be eatin jumbo shrimp and lobster I want 200,000 in the bank, you wanna be the imposter mobster Recognize like Sam Snead, I got 'em four twins to feed So make the next man bleed, I just might Cause ain't nothin right in my life God help me, It ain't nothin nice [Hook 4x] From LA to NY, ATL and back it ain't nothin nice To all my n***as and my b**hes throw your motherf**in hands in the air And keep 'em there