[Chorus]
1 – Never let a nigga know yo business
2 – Always start what you finish
3 – Stay on yo note don’t slip
4 – Be careful cause these streets are a trip
5 – Always keep a glock in yo whip
6 – Real niggaz stick to the script
7 – Don’t slang crack where you stay
8 – Just don’t do it okay

[Lil’ Flip]
In my hood all you see is dope fiends and dope dealers
Rats and roaches police and 4 wheelers
Metro’s gun shoots piccalo
30-year-old men swingin drinkin bigalow
Stop signs but don’t nobody ever stop
Theres ten groups in my hood but don’t nobody drop
Plus the block is hot, and this dope game cold
Throught rain sleet or snow birds gotta get sold

[Somebody]
Birds get sold, I stand and watch the game unfold
My thing gets low, I teach the grain get gain and blowed
Leave the scene wit no clue
(Its kinda like you snooze you loose)
If you don’t fuck wit me I aint fuckin wit you

[Lil’ Flip]
Check the game ’til you see my weapons aim
Nigga I aint a rookie I’m a veteran mayne

[Chorus]

[Lil’ Flip]
Hustle for yo whip, stack fo yo mill’
Buy a cookie cutter then I’m in the wind
Back to home base, I’m on a paper chase
I’m not a case catcher so I can’t catch a case
Money on my mind, and how am I gonna get it
I dress like I’m broke but I’m really running the city
Bricks turn into crumbs, gallons turn into one
Narcotics distubuting using guns
Money, cash, hoes, swangin gas full
If you don’t pay the bills man thats all I know
Hustlers never sleep and sleepers never hustle
I’m on the interstate with a brick in my muffler
Keep it on a low cause niggas be snitchin
They’ll do anything so they won’t see prison
Man you never know yo cousin can be a snitch
And a month later undercovers taking yo piss
I’m off the block, somebody better call the cops
Shippin and handlin, when I’m not feedin the family
The family don’t feed me I feed the family

[Chorus]

Hold up uhh..
3 2 nigga
nigga
Lil Ron and Lil Flip


Every day all day I gotta get dat paper
nigga i’m independent i ain’t wit no majors
you know me, from doin diamonds in ya face
the nigga wit da sucka free piece in ya face
i started out wit C-Note i fucked wit ESG
i found out dat the nigga wasn’t real to me
started snortin lines, stealin my flows
so i moved on started doin my own shows
i fucked wit Screw and he put me in da click
i started free stylin every body on my dick
it was freestyle pros not free style kings
and nigga fuck you I ain’t no freestyle queen
you hatin on me cause you know that i’m a CEO
and every time I do a show fans see me blow
Do all the shit you can’t do
You ain’t even from Houston Texas fool


Niggas aint from the set that they claim
And i’m here to let hot slugs just rang
Rang in ya brain my bullets is untamed
I’m off tha chain and I can’t be contained
I be rainin shots
clearin up blocks
Niggas know me I might stop in the drop and approach a bitch
Come here little mama
I got some game and a nigga wanna holla
Spit 2 lines and i’m in her head
and she in da passenger side ridin down homestead
I represent tha Rosewood till I D-I-E
And if you aint know I blow on dat endo tree
its me
i’m a young playa out da north
hookin up wit lil flip up out da south
Cloverland and Rosewood niggas know its all good
i represent my hood
its undastood


I represent my hood and I move my work
and I hussle, nigga, till I lose my shirt
And when I move my work I stack da money
And if you see me in the back of johnny
That mean i’m gettin a watch or i’m gettin a ring
and if i’m on the freeway you know i’mma speed
cause i got a jaguar and it go so fast
and i got credit cards i don’t use no cash
and when i pull up everybody say damn
and when i show my platinum hoes know who i am
i’m the i can do that nigga leanin to the left
when i smoke tha do-do you’ll fuckin lose ya breath
cause all I do is smoke the real shit
And im the nigga
wit mo money den Will Smith


I’m da nigga wit mo money den Will Smith
Back door, lil flip nigga gone take a whiff
of this good doe
cause thats all we smoke
killa, weed
I got a trick up my sleeve
Screens on watching greed
make a bitch say please
Lil’ ron, can I have you
You can’t have me unless you do my whole crew


Thats right
you gotta fuck me
you gotta fuck him
you gotta fuck him, him, him, and him, and him
cuz we da ones wit candy paints and big ole rims
take a look at my piece we got big ole gems
every time you see me all da hoes be stoppin
cuz they know my trunks be poppin
niggas lookin like boy they some rich niggas
they ain’t got 3 figgas they got 6 figgas
I do a song nigga
I hit da bank nigga
I got da weed nigga
I got da drank
So what you wanna do nigga
What you wanna sip
how you want yo work nigga hard or whip
I gve it to you how you want it
Cause i’m a banker
Big money maker
Big face chaser
about my paper
so call me king kose
Every time you see me
I’m hoppin out lorenzo benzoes
Endo is what’s in my nose
Starch, heavy starch thats in my clothes
I’m slingin more than GI Joe
I like some of dat shit though lemme do that…

(Lil’ Flip)
Well, I smoke and lean tryna get high
on Cloud 9 tryna reach they sky
we call it dro’ya’ll call it lye
all I need is a sweet to get me by
I’m super fly like Missy
drink Moette until I’m pissy
I pulled up in a Bentley
hoes asking who is it its F-L-I-P
blowing that light green
no sticks, no seeds $300 for an O-Z
and you know me stay blowed puffing and passing
you split it, dump it, lick it then stuff it wit hashing

(Chorus)
Da roof, da roof, da roof is on fire
We don’t need matches real smokers use lighters
Da roof, da roof, da roof is on fire
We don’t need matches real smokers use lighters

(Lil’ Flip)
Smoke all day thats what I do
when I think about my nigga Screw
I break bread with my crew
I smoke green, purple, even blue
I dont know about you but I love to smoke
play Grand Theft and crack a joke
or go to the club and snatch a hoe
thats the way it go when ya ballin hoe
we smoke dro’to get higher
I got 20’s on my tires, I got tensions in my wires
cause Haddy’s got that fire
and when I retire I’m a still be smoking hay
like (?whos ya conflict?)or mail man and Drey
so if you wanna smoke something just holla at ya boy
cause I got cotton candy, tarantula, and fat boy
we can roll a sack boy and get so high
but when its time to hit the club I need Visine for my eyes

(Chorus)
Da roof, da roof, da roof is on fire
We don’t need matches real smokers use lighters
Da roof, da roof, da roof is on fire
We don’t need matches real smokers use lightersCheck out more Lyrics from Lil’ Flip. 
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