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[Hittman]It's 1234in ackriteQuestion is - can I
get some? Knahmsayin?Ackrite bitchWhen I see you in
the spot, you just ackrite, youknahmsayin?When I yank you
by the 1234in permdon't be lookin at a nigga crazyJust get with the digits and be the 1234 out,
youknahmsayin?Let me break it down for y'allIt was just one of those dayswhen I wanted to catch
sunraysFun to get blunted on a Sunday, afternoonNigga ? got room, grab the gat for misbehavorsand the
chocolate faded boom, flossin hip-hop tunesZoom-zoom like
the CommodoresWonder will we have drama or, end up clownin
whoresAround the full good-to-go girlslike them
Barbary Coast girls, riding shotgun, babyI be postin
all-world in The RaSippin 151 that gave me too much pride
to back downSoon as we get to The Beach I'ma put my
1234in mack downI'm playin lead, not the
backgroundIt's time to put Bronson on the map nowWalk with my hand on my Johnson, crack a smileCuties
peep my style, if I don't get some ackriteI'ma
have to ack-wildChorus: sung by HittmanBlunt in my left hand, drink in my rightStrap by my
waistline, cause niggaz don't fightSucker free for
life, so you better think twice(Aight? And a give a
nig' some ackrite)I'm the type of nigga playa
haters don't likeSnatchin up your honey for some late
night hypeAnd snobby-ass bitches get slapped out of
spite(Aight? So give a nig' some ackrite, right)[Hittman]Uhhhhh.. drink kickin in, I'm
stimulatedFor those that don't know big words,
I'M 1234IN FADEDEighty-three degrees, ease to a
shaded spotOur first spot was cool til some gangsters made
it hotNow we plot and poseplus we watchin hoes, with
lots of flesh exposedgettin swarmed by those type of
niggazwith no game but brown-noseSo I impose only
like pros can"Yo, is this your man?" "No."Grab the
bitch's hand, "I'm Hittman."Bling! Gold chain
gleam"You're very eligible for my summer league
team."Maybe too extreme cause the sister got steamedThen Miss Thing tried to scream on my brethernI got mad
spit flame on the nameStefan, tattooed on her armHoe
you ain't the bomb, must be a dykewitcho' lips
swoll, and give a nig' some ackriteChorus
(minus the word "Aight" both times)[Hittman]Frontin on the ack-rite, causin me to act upGood
Samaritan save that hoe from gettin slapped upMy homies
crack up at the scene I madeYo my actions ain't
serene when a nigga's on fadeIf it wasn't for
the one-time brigadeI woulda sprayed at the hooker
trampAs cops parade I'm afraid it's time to
break campMake tracks, where else can we go to take
hoesfrom fake macks {*CAR HORN*} aiyyo, chase them
girlsin that black Maxima, the passenger, almost fractured
herneckbone, lookin back at usPlus, they on the dick
cause the Caddy's plushThey blush, I bumrush the
hush, with the largest crushTry to swing an ep tonight so
I don't have to keep in touchKeep it on hush without
the tip-inMackin interrupted by some niggaz set-trippinClip in the strap, I showed these niggaz how to actChorus |
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