Polo Tha God - Stop Talkin To'Em lyrics

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Polo Tha God - Stop Talkin To'Em lyrics

[Intro] Chet Huh Like This, Hold Up, Uh Stop Talkin' To'Em Lo, Stop Talkin' To'Em Stop Talkin' To'Em Lo, Stop Talkin' To'Em [Verse 1: Polo Tha God] Ok, M.O.E check the hoes before you check me The only question I ask is where that check be Cause these b**hes think they slicker than some hair grease Young paid n***a, get her wetter than a jet ski Flex free, no fakin' where we at B Different types of the same kicks like Jet Li Throw money, thats rain not sunny Ask me am I Polo Tha God, like duh dummy f** these n***as cause they fraud dog I'm in the building, you ain't even in the yard dog Walk through and I await for my applause dog Like aw nah, I think I'm feelin' myself Cause I'm feelin' my Timbs and I'm feelin' my belt I'm flee as hell and I doubt that they're on anyone else I'm flee as hell, I doubt their eyes are on anyone else Competitor, I'm a champ I come for anyone's belt Top me, top me, not likely I don't even try No flex, just glide god I don't even fly Pain came and stayed god, I don't even cry No more, co*k the nine like Romo Syrup got me movin' slow mo Like oh no Polo, how you drink and smoke purple Tell'em that I'm shaped up, got a small circle And I be high like the pants that be on Urkel When I ride, ask the Feds do I be on Earth, No Cause the kush help me drive better And ride better, sold d** cause it paid better Now watch I beat the beat up like I'm Mayweather A heavyweight up in this bicth Heavyweights that's on my wrist And we move that white girl like Ricki Lake with us and sh** And Martha Stewart on the side helpin baking up the sh** Move that yola, pharmacists ain't got this type of medicine Yeah, rode past my ex shorty she is so blew Cause like yesterday's forecast, she old news I'm cold dude, tell the jakes that I'm fold proof See no evil, hear no evil, you gets now proof Out of people, no indictment, no further trial No evidence after 72, let me out Get back down and treat the streets like what ever Quick to warm a n***a up, like he needed a sweater Roll two blunts together, trying to get like Casper Five on one, yall tryin' to jump me so them bullets gon' wrestle Tired of talkin' to them hoes like get my digits faster I'm God, these other n***as pastors Stop talkin' to'em