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Ain't Allowed Where I'm From
par
Juicy J
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These niggers dropping dimes, they some real snitches The only dimes that I ever dropped was some bitches I’ma cut some fingers, I’ma clip some tongues, cause All that pouring and that talking ain’t allowed where I’m from [X2] Nigger stuck off in the fare, f*cking with them bricks His partners put them laws on him, over a bitch These p*ssy nigger scared, don’t wanna take they charge They swear they hard but they softer then cotton balls Real niggers go to jail and don’t tell them nothing, true Do that time, come back home then get back to hustling We got everything for sale, but the kitchen sink Keep my eyes on you snakes, I don’t even blink Boy you scared, you gonna tell them white folks everything, yes sir To cut your time, you gonna give up errybody name Snitching nigger you ain’t straight, them folks gonna find you dead Cut your tongue out your mouth then put one in your head These niggers dropping dimes, they some real snitches The only dimes that I ever dropped was some bitches I’ma cut some fingers, I’ma clip some tongues, cause All that pouring and that talking ain’t allowed where I’m from [X2] The bigger the gun, the bigger the slug The bigger the hole for doc to plug, Hole in your head, I put you to sleep Body not found, mama gon’ weep Droppin the dime, an runnin your mouth Nowhere to run down in the south [?] goons and [?] I [?] your wig [?] blowing on kush and sipping on hen Forgive me father for your sin [?] convicted felon back in the pen [?] he looking for bread, he know that’s a loss [?] behind them bars, now you gon’ squeal [?] These niggers dropping dimes, they some real snitches The only dimes that I ever dropped was some bitches I’ma cut some fingers, I’ma clip some tongues, cause All that pouring and that talking ain’t allowed where I’m from [X2] Prime time snitching lies, got line twistin guys Take the clic to make them flake no bind side in district 9 Trying to dodge prison time, all die for fishin by, smith and 9's, pow pow pow, If you mention mine one put you in a scope, two clack then it's smoke, three scoop you up and put yo body in an envelope, 4 send yo folks jus ya head chest guts now you leakin body stinkin up the Fed Ex truck, and that fed pressure, makes the snitches wanna roast you, they start droppin dimes like they coins miss the toll booth, God as my witness man i swear to tell the whole truth, where I'm from we gets it done and act like we don't know dude These niggers dropping dimes, they some real snitches The only dimes that I ever dropped was some bitches I’ma cut some fingers, I’ma clip some tongues, cause All that pouring and that talking ain’t allowed where I’m from [X2]
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