Styles P - Who's Dat? lyrics

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Styles P - Who's Dat? lyrics

[Styles P] Hahaha, OWWWWWW! We just keep smokin and smokin and smokin Hehehe, I enjoy myself! I eventually expect to fall out one of these days But f** it... whattup? M-I-double-L-I-O-N's Got cash, can't trust some of my old friends n***as ain't walk this path of my old Timbs Let me find out it's my lawn that there's potholes in Cause P ain't Posdonus, smoke blunts like a rasta Hold uzis in a mobster suit The Bugati got ostrich seats, my gosh I'm loose Pick up 50 G's a morning with my orange juice Now, you don't know me and you don't want to Cause - six in the mornin, I'm comin to hunt you Give it a little time, I have the country sewed Cause I did more dirt than a country road Frankly I don't give a damn like, Humphrey Bog' 20 bricks, 50 pounds that's my monthly load n***a watch the pump explode, you can jump if you want But I'mma dump 'til I ran the globe (c'mon) [Hook: T. Waters] Who's that makin that God damn noise? That's S.P., Waters and them D-Block boys Don't worry 'bout a scrap daddy, we pop toys So don't go f**in with them D-Block boys Now now now who that makin that God damn noise? That's S.P., Waters and them D-Block boys Don't worry 'bout a scrap daddy, we pop toys So don't go f**in with them D-Block boys [T. Waters] Street dreams consist of triple beams A vest'll connect with the best for red seams A M-16 for fiends with heavy habits Why wait on him when Waters already have it? Spread to the West, started with petty traffic Get a ga**y n***a a** and dead him with some matches Now he ashes, no need for a casket f**in ba*tard, I'm the greatest, young Ca**ius Squeeze first or get hit 'til your knees hurt And do top {?} free work on your t-shirt Usually with b**hes I start with the beat first But I'mma show these n***as that beef hurt Now now now, I stay true to my tattoos One life to live, forgive me T. Waters a fool I used to sell weed, half quarters at school Put some bread on his head, I'll slaughter the dudes, ya heard? [Hook] [Styles P] You don't wanna be in the coma f**in with this Ruff Ryder artist, D-Block owner Any liquor I drink I chase with Coronas Rap so hard n***as tryin to clone us Needed a Ghost Rider you just shoulda phoned us You really ain't gangster cause you been woulda showed us Whattup homey, whattup cuz I keep a orange boxcutter and I don't cut up rugs Mad beef jumpin off is what a whattup does If I felt like the vibe was wrong, that's my word 12 gauge mausberg, your side is gone Now some of y'all is joinin, some of y'all retirin You need a hit man, I'm the one for hirin (call me) I keep the dutch and the gun, still firin Watch out for n***as, cause feds got 'em wired in First second third and fourth, I hear si-rens [Hook] {*gunshot and gunfire*}