You wanna do dat You wanna do dat You wanna do dat
All that, talkin' talkin' talkin' talkin' that shit Talkin' talkin' talkin' talkin' talkin' that shit Talkin' talkin' talkin' talkin' talkin' that shit Talkin' talkin' talkin' talkin' talkin' talkin' that
Man up motherfucker, man up Man up motherfucker, man up Man up motherfucker, man up Man up motherfucker, man up
Now eve'body wanna fuckin' they own label Wouldn't on the first shit to bring to the They in they own somethin' like a fable Handicap situations all
I 'em down, like a computer 'Cause ain't nobody fuckin' wit the producer Coreleone, Trill representatives Fuck Don P Man of y'all too sensitive
But ya right, me But 'nam day you gon' touch me 'bout, Don P, why you buckin'? Man you to chill out get to the money
I already got it and Trill nigga I handle all my besides I'm all about man, before anybody checkin'
All that, talkin' talkin' talkin' talkin' talkin' shit Talkin' talkin' talkin' talkin' talkin' that shit Talkin' talkin' talkin' talkin' talkin' talkin' that Talkin' talkin' talkin' talkin' talkin' that shit
Man up motherfucker, man up Man up motherfucker, man up Man up motherfucker, man up Man up motherfucker, man up
What you starin' at? This ain't no show You make me cock back, hit ya ass in the door You don't do dat, hear dem thangs clit-clak Goes in ya through the front, comes out the back
Come and make my night, love to talk but hate to Was you a bitch? I was a bitch, it go away ova night Man up man up I told you once motherfucker stand up
All that, talkin' talkin' talkin' talkin' that shit Talkin' talkin' talkin' talkin' talkin' that shit Talkin' talkin' talkin' talkin' talkin' that shit Talkin' talkin' talkin' talkin' talkin' that shit
Man up motherfucker, man up Man up motherfucker, man up Man up motherfucker, man up Man up motherfucker, man up
Now if you niggaz playin', you gon' make a nigga tear a hole through yo' chest, is yo' flesh, I can see yo' soul You don't wanna do dat, hit you wit a bat Talkin' all dat nigga and I'ma hit you wit da gack
Seventeen out da barrel on my .45 Four plus five equals nine goin' yo spine Sit yo ass down hoe, make a move you go you off da map and beat yo ass at yo own show
Ain't playin' no games wit you lames it comes to gangsta shit up my middle finger, grabbin' on my own dick Niggaz thank they slick yo pick, which one you want? Bullets flyin' through yo house or goin' straight yo door
Make yo ass choke wit different of my hand movements Say dat your a G, in streets, man you gotta prove in Next, time I see you talkin' shit rearrange yo mouth and put yo ass in a ditch, bitch
All that, talkin' talkin' talkin' talkin' that shit Talkin' talkin' talkin' talkin' talkin' that shit Talkin' talkin' talkin' talkin' talkin' that shit talkin' talkin' talkin' talkin' talkin' that shit
Man up motherfucker, man up Man up motherfucker, man up Man up motherfucker, man up Man up motherfucker, man up
You don't do dat You wanna do dat You don't do dat ...