CORRIGER LES PAROLES
Paroles : Back Again
(Tay Keith, f**k these n***as up)
Blast his ass
I don't even ask when it come to cash, they catch him
Blast his ass
Jam get out that jam, I gave him fifty, ain't gotta ask again
He was catchin' murders, way back then, that's when the max was in
I don't drink that red or that green, bring back the Act again
f**ked her then she told that she hate me, now she back again
And you still alive, you better be lucky, ain't no traffickin'
Hate they ass so much, we dig 'em up and tell 'em, "Die again"
I can hit the club all by myself long as the strap is in
n***as told me, all the rappers pu**y, ain't no rapper then
They told 'em what type of car was in, I had to go get it wrapped again
Say when I get on, ain't no more thots, we f**kin' actresses
b*t*h, you know we lyin', we f**kin' thotties on the mattresses
Hey, pop out like a ghost
They like, "Prince Dre, boy, he back again" (Uh)
If a body movin', I spin back again, clap again (Uh)
I be in New Orleans with a choppa like I'm Soulja Slim (Uh, hey, hey)
O'Block they my brothers but 300 that's my woadie nem
Don't be my f**king partners
I be movin' through these b*t*h, ain't worried 'bout no oppers (Ain't worried 'bout no, ooh)
I'm a f**kin' shooter
And I'm dreaded like a rasta
I be runnin' up that bag, I been trappin' out that charger (Skrrr)
Foenem screamin', "Get back"
You know I'm with that (Uh)
Long live Baby Boy, but T-Roy can't forget hec
Project baby, 6-4 shawty, got it on my back (Uh)
Chopper bullet, make a somersault then put 'em on his back (Boom, boom)
Blast his ass
I don't even ask when it come to cash, they catch him
Blast his ass
Jam get out that jam, I gave him fifty, ain't gotta ask again
He was catchin' murders, way back then, that's when the max was in
I don't drink that red or that green, bring back the Act again
f**ked her then she told that she hate me, now she back again
And you still alive, you better be lucky, ain't no traffickin'
Hate they ass so much, we dig 'em up and tell 'em, "Die again"
I can hit the club all by myself long as the strap is in
n***as told me, all the rappers pu**y, ain't no rapper then
They told 'em what type of car was in, I had to go get it wrapped again
Say when I get on, ain't no more thots, we f**kin' actresses
b*t*h, you know we lyin', we f**kin' thotties on the mattresses
Hey, pop out like a ghost
They like, "Prince Dre, boy, he back again" (Uh)
If a body movin', I spin back again, clap again (Uh)
I be in New Orleans with a choppa like I'm Soulja Slim (Uh, hey, hey)
O'Block they my brothers but 300 that's my woadie nem
Don't be my f**king partners
I be movin' through these b*t*h, ain't worried 'bout no oppers (Ain't worried 'bout no, ooh)
I'm a f**kin' shooter
And I'm dreaded like a rasta
I be runnin' up that bag, I been trappin' out that charger (Skrrr)
Foenem screamin', "Get back"
You know I'm with that (Uh)
Long live Baby Boy, but T-Roy can't forget hec
Project baby, 6-4 shawty, got it on my back (Uh)
Chopper bullet, make a somersault then put 'em on his back (Boom, boom)
