What You Gonna Do Lyrics - Ridin High - Eightball & Mjg

[MJG] 

Roach spraid on the block 

Then I took my throwback 

Now my soldiers posted up 

Hangin' like a coatrack 

Gun in the bushes and 

Work in the stash spot 

Overtime, al night 

Try'na make a fat knock 

Swell in my pocket 

Like I'm carryin' a loaf of bread 

Been around the world 

But I still love local head 

Got the shit to make 'em jump 

It's hyper like a pimp rally 

Give 'em just a piece it make 'em 

Mime me like a skip daddy 

Glock, Chevy parked in the yard 

Wit' the double pipes 

If I catch ya try'na steal it 

I'ma get double life 

I ain't wanna do it, I ain't even really hate son 

That's a damn shame but tomorrow, I'ma make ??? 

Black Hummer waitin' for me in front of the jail house 

Comin' for the boys who thought that I wouldn't bail out 

Top notch citizen, on top of his shit again 

Pimp type, M-J-G, another hit again 

[Hook: MJG (Pimp C)] 

This some grown man shit, pussy ass nigga! 

How you wanna do it, we can just get to it 

(Watchu wanna do, how you wanna do it?) 

(Pussy ass nigga, we can just get to it, bitch) 

This some grown man shit, pussy ass nigga! 

How you wanna do it, we can just get to it 

(Watchu wanna do, how you wanna do it?) 

(Pussy ass nigga, we can just get to it) 

[8 Ball] 

Boys ask me all the time 

Am I tired of the grind 

Hell naw nigga, gettin' richer 

That's all on my mind 

Twist the pine, smoke a pound 

Grabbin' chickens, buy a ticket 

Delta airlines, pimp, I got some down ass bitches 

Broads wit' them credit cards 

Make her listen, let her charge 

Flat TVs and some tiles for my momma car 

Eighty-thousand dollars, I'mma fuckin' ghetto superstar 

Work come soft, never hard, that's a different charge 

Tre-8 never jam if I gotta blam blam! 

If you not a regular, I'm taxin' you like Uncle Sam 

Rubber gloves, blue magic and some Downy sheets 

Plenty plastic wrap and a vacuum pack machine 

My uncle, "Old School" don't need nothin' but a triple-beam 

A dollar and a plate, he like to hit it while he mix it 

I be rollin' up blunts in the den, countin' bread 

30 dollars till my heart stop beatin' and I'm dead 

[Hook] 

[Pimp C] 

Unh 

Sweet Jones is the pimp of the year 

Wrist full of frozen fireworks 

6 in my ear, fly hoes and chains and 

Swangin' on them thangs bitch 

No I ain't no lame, got cocaine 

It ain't no thang bitch, for you to drive down holl'n for ten 

Guaranteed when ya test it you'll come and get 'em again 

I heard a nigga say his name was Pimp C on that "Boss'n Up" movie 

But that nigga ain't me 

Too many clones in the streets and on the microphone 

Pussy ass niggaz need to leave my legacy alone 

'Cause I'm a motherfuckin' king in that Texas 

Don't hesitate to put that thang on them plexers 

'Cause it ain't no thang to lay yo' lump off in yo' lap boy 

Hit his figure wit' the trigger, scratch off in the toy 

Fuck me, not a change nigga fuck you 

You want a war? It's whateva you bitches wanna do 

[Hook till fade]