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Lil' B

Genres: Hip-Hop

Mr. Dopeman Lyrics - Lil' B

Hey, bitch, who sells cocaine? 

You selling rocks, nigga? 

I got a little cocaine 

Boy, you in school! Why, why you selling drugs in school, man? You're in college! 

I want to make a little money 

What?! Man, you better wait this shit out, man; get your education 

I want to sell crack like -- I wanna be... I wanna be Scarface! 

 

I hit a nigga fast with the red beam 

Riding downtown in the limousines 

I'm thinking about knocking a couple niggas off 

Whoadie playing games with the fucking boss 

Whoadie don't know I sell keys 

Keys open doors; call me Pusha T 

Brodie facin' fed time 

He fuckin' with me, that bitch gotta die 

 

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I want to find out who made the crack 

Who run the meth labs, who gon' say that? (Gon' say that?) 

Who keeps serving bags with that fucking powder 

Ain't no shortage, I'm talking every hour 

Tryna come up; brodie won't front none (None) 

So how I'm gon' bubble up? (Bubble up) 

Life is rough; I won't cry still 

Bagging dope up, asking god "Will 

He put me up, and put that away?" 

I swear to God, man, I ain't trying to sell no keys today 

My rent due today, how I'm gon' pay? 

I got a felony. What they got for me? (I don't know) 

They say I can't get a job because I'm worthless (Why?) 

But if I ain't helping no community then I ain't workin' (Gotta go) 

Gon' rock on 'em if I ain't workin' (Gotta go) 

Finna rock on 'em with that black mask and leave them jerkin' 

 

Photos 

 

Wonder who cooked the crack 

Mr. Dopeman, can you tell me that? 

I wonder who bagged the dope 

Mr. Dopeman, who is my ho? 

Who baggin' up keys? 

Mr. Dopeman, won't you tell me, please? 

Why you killin' all these folks? 

Mr. Dopeman, I am the ho 

 

Riding up with keys on the front line 

Brodie saying I'm facin' fed time 

But I can't really give no shits 

If I ain't makin' no money I out'chea hittin' piss 

And why them boys hatin' on me? 

I ain't making no money, niggas hatin' on me 

Finna push that front line 

Already know, nigga, one time 

Still pushing dope still 

Rocking up with them blue pills 

Everybody know I got it 

Selling off that motherfucking weed 

Everybody know I flip that quarter pack 

I flip that quarter pack, where it's at 

I flip that quarter pack, I flip that motherfucker like "where it's at" 

 

Flexing all these keys today 

Made me who I am in that bad way 

Mr. Dopeman, can you ask me 

Where them keys at? Where them doors at? 

Where them keys at? Where them doors at? 

Where them keys at? Where them doors at? 

Where them keys at? Can you tell me that? 

I gotta go! 

I gotta go! 

I gotta go! 

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