Young Buck - Dealer lyrics

[Verse 1: Obie Trice] Me, I ain't no rapper n***a, I'm a trapper Eva since n***a was invented Came out that snapper Cocaine pin my stature Bring it back, whip Kane Ackerin Oh Lord, so hard, just like a statchet Mathmatics, n***a, I'm stackin' Whateva you crab, I'm matchin' I'm soap certain bout my curses sh**'s comin' back to a mansion At work call a n***a athen I rap, still give a dabble There's only curtains went over certain I ain't dealin' with hustles Bring that bread back to that castle Lay it on the bed, that's what blacks do Take a picture, me and my figures Basket in my satchel You rap, I'mma come back to put you beneath n***a no altitude My attitude is absolute n***a like me comin' after you [Hook] This is for my drug dealers Drug dealin', my real life drug dealers Drug dealin', my Columbian drug dealers Sarcoase to my Haitian drug dealers Hovado loco to all my Mahecco drug dealers Yella, to my Aerobic drug dealers All my k**as in the hood who be drug dealers Makin' paper, reach the ceiling, my n***as [Verse 2: Young Buck] With my granddaddy got guncharches His grandson got gramms though Got grandma get a grand for every gramm that she transporting My kids cause I got ammo And I ain't talk about ammo I am talking about shelves, hoe These no more, when you sell dope Projects with this pyrex Got nine left with these hombres He's jumpin' back, I'm bein' honest I got all my young n***as on this I don't believe in carin no gateway I'm not takin' care of no grown man Gotta jump in and get yo feet wet Test to shoot you'r own hands Dope-boy that got no plan So i do sh** you don't understand I let my partner meet demand They in it deep like quicksand You still handling heorine My uncle in and steppin on it He got out the pimp For lettin hes friend OD and left him on it DOPEBOY.. [Hook] This is for my drug dealers Drug dealin', my real life drug dealers Drug dealin', my Columbian drug dealers Sarcoase to my Haitian drug dealers Hovado loco to all my Mahecco drug dealers Yella, to my Aerobic drug dealers All my k**as in the hood who be drug dealers Makin' paper, reach the ceiling, my n***as [Verse 3: Tone Tone] Money to the set No rax that gub like a build My dopes make c**aine like score Count so good i could be a Tone I can take you where the block at I can show you where the love at All this work that we get with-Yeaah! - - where my scrubs at The eastside where the d** at How we all trough the city with the pounds and the trunk Trying get the work on M'gotta murder ya n***a Bought what u served yall And we ain't doing no dance Booty make the work twerk Rou-rou-round 3 4 5 6 times Put em n***as to the dime Flip a brick at a time Put a loose at the lam See the whoop in this man Fell of it like (cadillac?) Took a trip now im fine Look, what u know about OT (crunnerbook?) you a hoetail Just to make you a hoesell Real g's taking no air Wait till you dry when you got no aires Feel n***as