Mannie Fresh - Order 20 Keys lyrics

[B.G.] f** all that a**holin papers on my mind Trying to come up I need every single dime 5, 9, 6, 51, 09 Look out for me, give me something properly, 100g Drop it on Ivana street to protect it I'm up by 2:23 and some ozzies I got a gang of B.G. to work the sh** for me A team with a little Terrance and a little g Alfred, Onry and Billy Crazy phat, and my n***a Tyree So when my n***a come home I can put him on his feet Cuz I'm straight till the one put the drop on me Run it through the one and only staller It's a young G, nuthin else than a young baller 4 and a half, for you, 4 and a half for you And an ounce for you, I got coc for the whole crew I'mma roll and show the rest of my n***as Everybody I pay got the finger on the trigger I just broke B on his 200 g's He called DC and order 20 more keys I got K-C and Sam running on his brother In pewee running in the U.P.T 3 showed up, and the roofed came down on BFD We got it all, so show love to the 17 The B.G. is on top of Shacollars Dream came true by becoming a young baller Chorus: Baby order 20 keys, turn 10 over to me The B.G., and I'ma put em in the U.P.T [B.G.] sh**s getting fleded, I got mine A n***as trying to take it They must ain't heard, I'm spilling blood on the curb It's the dumbest sh**, I'mma take it bust your sh** Now some rookies call they self reversing it? Now Ain't that a b**h, now I gotta bring out the real in me I'm a jack so I gotta bring out the k** in me Go back to the flack, got to creep 4 deep Do them clowns what they shoulda did to me Bust hollow tips slugs In they nasty a** Digging dirt behind my work for my stash and cash Takw 100 g's, wit ease? n***a please I do for my yeast, and what I'ma do for my cheese I learned from the best, had the hardest test Ain't nuttin but a left hole in the left side of my chest f** wit me and you gonna learn, that chopper bullets burn Cross my line you gonna get snuck, motherf**er get plucked Ballers walk me out all night In the dark, round stonyette park Catch me slippin? how you figure n***a, Ima stand taller It takes street smarts to be a young baller Chorus [B.G.] Gotta be bout my grip, gotta be bout my cheese Gotta bout be my yee, bustin n***as to they knees I'm coming through your house with the glocs Imagine whatchu got, you ain't got it, you get chopped I gotta trunk full of funk for the haters I'm all about my paper, me and my n***as planning capers I'm hustler, b**h bustla, body disgusta I'm the n***a you can't trust, I'm a f** ya I heard some n***as comin down from Cali With a truck full of yay 4:00 friday They come and serve some body a couple of keys I gotta had that, I don't know em', they gotta leave Tricks up the sleeve, meet me in the medigree At the tele, they gonna get buried I already got it, straight down flat Run in run out, click clack of packs 4 n***as 4 keys, 4 tryin to play I gotta correct it, split it 4 ways I got mind into have things, thats all I've been hoping We hit for coke, so lets bust the uptown open The B.G. determined to stand taller Picture that, nothing but teenage ballers Chorus [B.G. ad libs]