Mr. 3-2 - This is 4 My lyrics

(*talking*) Yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah Yeah-yeah-yeah, music come on n***a [Intro] This is for my n***as, on thye block that be grinding This is for my n***as, locked up doing time and This is for my n***as, that ain't scared to move snow Move dro, whatever daddy get that do' This is for my b**hes, that ain't scared to set ya up This is for my b**hes, that ain't scared to wet ya up This is for my b**hes, that'll s** and swallow nut Little daddy get down, and bring back the bucks [Mike D] I'ma tell ya like this, Corleone don't need ya All I'ma do, is let welfare feed ya Better call ya man, of you want a n***a to eat ya And ask somebody, how Corleone treat ya Reach ya and teach ya, 68 sequel All you can do, is juggle balls like receivers Head hunter pleaser, no dick teaser Keep the X-O, in case your friends wanna meet a Boss Hogg n***a, like Mike D Boss Hogg, from that 3-R-D And I rep that, S.U. motherf**ing to the C To the day that I D-I-E, n***a feel me I'm so high, I'm in the booth getting gone I'm telling y'all, it's that n***a Corleone Now pop that p**y, pop that p**y Pop that, now let me see what you got Make your a** end drop, like the headboard knock On the flo' give me mo', I'ma wear that puddy out Go on show me what you bout, and represent that Dirty South [Mr. 3-2] Break yourself beat your feet, bring it all back to Boss Man Make boys rubber up, don't wanna see you coughing Dirty leg b**hes, gon get my kishey-ishey Drop that p**y for Pimpin', now keep it nicely Hoe don't ask me questions, twerk your money maker All night long, and buy me a thousand dollar dance (You don't know who that is, b**h that's Pimpin' Chris Tell 'em what you do to a b**h), breaking tricks Snap the hotel up, in the f**ing car sipping bar High off X, or whatever it is plotting hundred dollar bills Naw this ain't show biz, no kids And old school playa, don't play the game right [Hook] Pop that p**y, pop that p**y Pop that p**y, drop that p**y Drop that p**y, drop that p**y Take it down low, for a n***a to the flo' for a n***a Know what I'm tal'n bout Yeah, represent that Dirty South [Clay-Doe] Baby girl, take your position and show me Let me see the position it's gon be, when it's gon be Got 'em sprung, kept that tongue rolling Give it to me mami, like you don't wanna owe me Show me where that poll be, I know you get that money Run aroused playing house, praying on them dummies Mark that fire, now you f**ing with a 3rd Ward rider Southmore Slim, where playas and my priors High rise windows, stay hit a lake causing In the winter on the beach, in a short link mink Dodge Charger, damn nail quarter broilers Member for member, my click is straight brawlers Smoke dro, 'til the end of the bottle And lean, 'til we can't lean when we solve 'em [Hook]