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Fuckin With Me

Artist:Juvenile  Album:Fuckin With Me  Writer:Unknown  Composer:GRAY TERUIS 

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[Juvenile talking] Whoa! see'mon Whoa! I hear you niggaz heart pumpin See' mon, whoa!, what's up, whoa! U.T.P, U.T.P [Verse 1: Juvenile] He gotta be in too much 'bout everything that he touch Out of the roof money get packed up and moved in the truck Kill me if you feel I ain't worthy I inherited skills from murky niggaz that's as real as my Saints jersey I stand here posted in the worst of times Knowing niggaz after me, gonna rehearse my grind I'm not a prophet, but I could teach you how to cock it and pop it And how to put some money in your pocket You see something you like go 'head and cop it But watch it, niggaz gone knock it Trying to get you for your paper when them bitches is jockin' You might do lil' daddy like that, but this is not him Don't look for your people to help you, my niggaz done shot them My people done told me I could roll I got a reputation for beating niggaz and hoes Stickin' to the G code, 'tees, 'rees, and 'bows Pop a Ex, smoke a blunt, if you believe it then Whoa! [Baby a.k.a. Birdman (chorus x2)] Whoa! I got to get it Lil Daddy (so keep your hands up) Whoa! I got to have it Lil Daddy (so keep your hands up) Whoa! I got to get it Lil Daddy, I got to have it Lil Daddy I want that brand new Caddy [Verse 2] I'm way over the top with mines I used to bag it up and take it to the block sometimes Poor niggaz be eating pork, rich niggaz be eating steak I'ma get me a Porterhouse nigga, you just wait You couldn't step on my toes if you was standing 6' 8" It's mister 400 bitches so get that shit straight

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