We out Chea - DJ Southeastern, Lil Boosie, Money Bags

All the way the dummy way

All the way, 100

Fifty, five-one-slash

Bitch, we out chea!

(We out chea!)

All the way the dummy way

All the way, 100

Fifty, five-one-slash

Bitch, we out chea!

(We out chea!)

All the way the dummy way

All the way, 100

Fifty, five-one-slash

Fifty, fifty-one fifty, fifty-one fifty, we out chea

Fifty-one fifty, fifty-one fifty, we out chea

OK, now ain’t I, ain’t I out chea?

Five-one, five-oh

All the way the dummy way

Fuck with me, die slow

Sold my first rock at 96, straight off the porch

Daddy gone, never comin' home

That’s all I know

So I’m headed out the do', strapped up, ready to roll

Dickies is cuffed up, fucked up, off that Henny and X-O

With that liquor in me, I’ll go do the shit myself

Fuck the consequences

Have all you niggas jumpin' fences

So, you see, I’ve been dumb

Reppin' where I’m from

When I drop it niggas come

Boss man, job done

After dark it’s Jurassic Park

Velociraptors tryna eat ya fo' the green leaves

We all G’s

Main mane in the grave behind some fuckin' bullshit

So when it’s time to bust them K’s, I don’t bullshit

Outta here, dead meat

Fuck you and your whole street

I roll with you, you roll with me, that’s it’s supposed to be

Hook: Lil

Look, it’s gutter with me

Yeah

Ain’t rasslin' or no tusslin' me

It’s straight bustin' with me

Look, as a peon, I’ve been known to get it on

Ran with straight cut-throaters

Niggas with no hope-a

The street life is all I know, it’s all I live

So yo' best bet?

Respect the kid

Fifty-one fifty, I mean that

If you happy, nigga I seen that

Supply my own smoke, never askin' where that green at

Now uh-oh, there go that boy Quick

This nigga here a savage

He totin' two Glocks under just in case it get drastic

Head first, fifty-one fifty, ain’t got no mind

Hopped off the porch and hit a 9, that’s the slangin' iron

Fifty-one fifty, fifty-one fifty, we out chea like the lines in the street

100, we do no stuntin'

What we do?

We let 'em stomp when it’s beef

No time for playin' games

Run with a bunch of killas who certified and well trained

Bitch, I’m out chea

All the way the dummy way

They hustlin', dumpin' in broad day, nigga, play you late

All the way 100, it’s 99, I cut my time

It’s E-N-T, it’s 6th Street, at the same time we wise guys

Fifty-one fifty, shit get wicked in my city

Pistol grippin in dickies

Nigga play, nigga get it

I don’t talk, I’ll walk it out, so you gon' see me fo' you hear me

Extra Hen' in my system, 'bout to fuck over a nigga

Bitch, we out chea, in the streets

Everywhere like burnt CDs

Barbershop

Barbeque

GLRRRRRRRRRRRR (roll your tongue)

Who gon' ride for you?

Choppin' fools

1-by-1

2-by-2

3-by-3

R.I.P

Rest in PISS

We bout dat gangsta shit

Play now, cry later, mane

Feed you to the gators mane

Try to send a message, that’s why I got that «Fuck you Haters» chain

Since 10, I’ve been a beast

Ain’t hard to find, I’m in the streets

Pocket monster in the club, murk yo' ass instantly