Mannie Fresh - Get in Line lyrics

("One! Two! Three! Kick it!") [Juvenile] n***a know I hate his guts, so he don't cross my path Cause he know I've been survivin' all of the wars I had b**h-n***a called hisself k**in' my dog But he didn't, though, so I'm tyin' up him and his broad Betta say somethin', and it betta be what I wanna hear I'm listenin' - scary b**hes started sh**tin' and pissin' You might see him on a milk carton, dog - he still missin' Somebody might catch him up on a hook when they fishin' Look, I've been itchin' to get b**hes, money, and j**els I know some n***a's got a package - I'ma run with the fool Through the years older playaz told me to keep my head strong Cause n***as is followers, and some of 'em led wrong But if I bust a cap in 'em, I will be dead wrong They don't know what's happenin', and I ain't gonna say it to 'em Cause b**hes be catchin' conversation inspectin' And f** up and give them people some bad information [Hook: Juvenile] Now point the n***a out if he wan' do it with me Step to the front of the line, let me see who you be Air and opportunity - that ain't nothin' to me Look, I got somethin' I'm totin' that'll cut you in three ("One! Two! Three! Kick it!") [Juvenile] You'se a certified clown in my eyes That's the reason why half of your hood got sh** bags on your side You talk a good game, but you a ho when they ride n***a don't have to look for you - they know you inside You probly got your tail in your a**, your thumb in your mouth Protected custody so you don't come in your house Motherf**er, where all the sh** you said you was 'bout? Let you tell it - you been 'bout bustin' heads in the south [B.G.] Can't be f**in' with no lame, fake Ain't even gon' watch your back, n***a Get popped - can't handle the pressure and rat, n***a Take the whole clique down runnin' his lips Can't come back in the bricks now, he'll get flipped It's a cold game, but I don't give a f**, my n***a I feel threatened by anybody, I'ma bust that n***a up my n***a Then go get a mill, f** my b**h - I take this game to heart, unless n***as disagree [Hook] [B.G.] I'm a lil' man - stand my ground no matter what Glock glued to my hand - there's no one you can trust n***as turned on they own n***a behind Geez If I think they won't turn on me, I'm outta luck So I roll first - co*k and shoot first Gotta stay over the head to duck a T-shirt You want beef? You want war? You want me? Nothin' between us but air and opportunity Don't talk 'bout what you gon' do - do it, n***a Cause you're wastin' your breath - go 'head, prove it, n***a sh**'s real - I ain't got time to fake Time's money - I ain't got time to waste But on the straight with me bein' real To let others' n***as know I don't fake - ya gotta get k**ed Oh, b**h-n***a playin' with a rich n***a like me Ya wind up six feet, clown [Hook] [Outro: Juvenile] Step up! Wherever the f** you is, n***a Don't throw a motherf**in' brick And hide your hand like a ol' p**y-a**, n***a ("One! Two! Three! Kick it!") Come out to the light, n***a - let me see who you is You wan' do me somethin' or harm my kids, n***a, show your face Make it known you're beefin' with me Know wh'I'm sayin' Ol' scary-a** n***a gon' hide Come out here, playa - catch me all over New Orleans, n***a On the block, in the hood, wherever B.G., n***a, always on V.L We gon' keep it real - know wh'I'm sayin' ("One! Two! Three! Kick it!") ("One! Two! Three! Kick it!")