Solomon Childs - Touch lyrics

[Intro: Solomon Childs] Alright I'll get em... [Chorus 1: Solomon Childs] Get your hands dirty n***a stop frontin uh-uh-uh You don't get, You talk that and uh-uh-uh-uh Take'n over the strip the block pumpin uh-uh You ain't gettin bread then n***a not frontin uh-uh Get your hands dirty n***a touch somethin uh-uh If you not gettin it then stop frontin uh-uh Take'n over the strip get blocks pumpin uh-uh Uhh-uh uh, Uhh-uh-uh Uhh-uh uh Get your hands dirty n***a touch somethin uh-uh If you ain't gettin money then stop frontin uh-uh Take'n over the strip get the blocks pumpin If you ain't gettin bread n***a stop frontin uh-uh [Solomon Childs] Promoters say I'm nice heats, Overseas nice with the beats Brilliant with gats, Brilliant on tracks Who said the East Coast ain't spittin it n***as is bringin it back n***as is dry clothes change'n when the rain hit em Here we here we here we go (Get em) n***a hit em Time to get one wit em, Boss crime You know what it is, Renegade, All mine Chrysler doors, Suicide who*es Turn round the frame, Street cred grain Crystallize, Top Gun n***as is all around n***as don't want it, What, Nah they don't want it Cause if you ain't gettin money n***a stop frontin uh-uh [Chorus 2: Solomon Childs] Get your hands dirty n***a touch somethin uh-uh Get your hands dirty n***a touch somethin uh-uh Take'n over the strip get the block pumpin If you ain't gettin bread n***a then n***a stop frontin uh-uh [Solomon Childs] You only live once, So make sure you die for somethin Don't go bluffin if the forty ain't co*ked Don't take the hit if you ain't got the right gwap Cause whether you get the drop ain't no further in frontin hot n***as is stupid, You know cause they don't know what's good But when they see the hammers they go runnin through the hood Talkin and promote'n how you get it in n***as know that they p**y word to my Mothers and friends I know that it's real, So n***a make sure you feel how you feel When you back the hammer on them n***as that squeal And now-a-days chunky ratchets aim accurate The club bangs, Twenty-fours spin off the roads Accurate, n***as is keepin it stuntin uh So you ain't got no bread n***a stop frontin uh-uh [Chorus 2] [Solomon Childs ad-libs till fade]