392 (feat. NoCapInMyRackz) - 214 Deuce

Freeband shit, Freeband shit (yeah) Baow, baow, baow, baow, baow, baow (grrr) Freeband shit, man, band-counter shit, man You know we want bags, man Swiper, no swiping Fire not too far from OV to 438, nigga (Yung Dza) Hop in the Scat and I go (vroom) Went and got Louboutins right out the store, ayy Twenty-two ridin' with Joe (baow) You hear a pop then that boy on the floor I got my Glock in my lap, I'ma score Lil' mama thick, I met her on the pole Told all my niggas y'all better not fold If anything, I'ma go and get the pole (grrr) Yeah, I'm a shooter, but don't gotta shoot it (grrr) I pay my lil' hitta to pull up and do it Swear that's your ass if we get into it I got lil' niggas ready to chew it I got pieces, I'm ready, I'm swipey You hollerin' 'bout action, so stop all that typin', ayy I ain't got time for no tussle I'ma just pull up and pop me a muscle After I copped it, I bought me a duffel (Zyoom) 392, it take off like a shuttle Needed some paper, told my niggas huddle up Bitch, I'd be broke if I wanted to cuddle (Hell nah) Wrist is G water, new pack, place your order If you send a bitch to come shop, I'ma short her Ayy, I'ma spin your block like a CD Got about twenty missed calls from a BD (Hold on) Gotta pay a lawyer, can't rock with no PD Told that nigga take it to the door and make it speedy (Real fast) Pussy niggas tryna call the truce like a treaty Made about fifty-five bands off TD Say he gon' rob me, ha, try, pussy Fam (Blaow), he dyin', huh Bake 'em (Fft), deep fry 'em (Psst, Yung Dza) Go on, I'm slidin' I gotta be up for the pick up If I miss the drop time, I'ma go and stick up, ayy 'Cause I gotta go and get it Crack's comin', gotta go and hit it, ayy I gotta go and hit it, ayy I gotta go and hit it, ayy Yeah, ayy, yeah (Ayy, okay) Soon as that Glock lock, hit him I hit his block and I bend it, shots extended Talkin' too hot, I'ma spin it Flew to the jeweler, bought a quarter mill' watch independent Shots keep flyin, who spinnin'? Ain't nobody seen who did it Trap house need new tenants Hop in that Scat and they shootin' for Kenny like he a lieutenant All of my opps I'm shootin' That choppa be talkin' in fluent Don't talk, I do it Choppa erase his face They had to cool it and close the casket at his viewin', mm, damn Niggas be tellin', I knew it Brand new bitch fell in, I flew it Blew twenty racks in the club but a nigga so Rich that you niggas can't tell that I blew it, ayy I'm slidin' in a Infinity I just go skrrt and I skid in it I don't give a fuck what bitch in it I don't trust you if you fidgety Hit the gas, cruise to infinity Know I got opps that'll try Know a nigga 'bout to drop with the Car, so I gotta keep switchin' it, ayy If I go to jail, I fuck the CO Piss real dirty, fuck the PO Down to the kilo, uh Had a nigga play with my backend Big yoppa that'll chop a nigga back in Pink 30 and the MAC-10 That's lights, no camera but the action Homie I go to mail with this Been a thug since me and Kellz was jits He was steppin' out the cell with drip And all my niggas out of jail are rich It's poppin'

We settled on a different plan We lay it down for every fan of the Deuce 'Cause we know how they feel All the pain that is loose in the game And there's too many rough demands And all of the children feel the distance between us As we scatter and hide away So whatcha gonna change for now? And who you gonna make the sheriff of this town? The sheriff of this town? Wasted youths We're the Fire Deuce Wear your Snakeskin boots While we Rock for you And ah Wasted youths Made us Fire Deuce Now we'll Sing our songs To ya Bring him home For ya It's time to set the record straight The children don't have time to wait on your ass You better speed it up You know that enough is enough So whatcha gonna change for now? And who you gonna make the sheriff of this town? The sheriff of this town? Wasted youths We're the Fire Deuce Wear your Snakeskin boots While we Rock for you And ah Wasted youths Made us Fire Deuce Now we'll Sing our songs To ya Bring it home For ya The Children of the Deuce The Children of the Deuce The Children of the Deuce The Children of the Deuce The Children of the Deuce Deuce Deuce Yeah! Wasted youths We're the Fire Deuce Wear your Snakeskin boots While we Rock for you And ah Wasted youths Made us Fire Deuce Now we'll Sing our songs To ya Bring him home For ya Wasted youths We're the Fire Deuce Wear your Snakeskin boots While we Rock for you And ah Wasted youths Made us Fire Deuce Now we'll Sing our songs To ya Bring him home For ya