Out 2 Get Cha

Lyrics

[Intro dialogue] [Verse 1: D-Moe] Nigga, you's plastic, a fake and a phony It's just a trip you used to be my homie Now motherfuckers go far with the player hatin' That's why a player like D-Moe is kinda like debatin' On what to do next: lounge or just get a TEC I'm from the YBG, fool, put your ho in check You tryna check me, it's kinda like do or die Dank or dope, cake and O's, for 11-5 To be true or do what you gotta do And not only niggas, yeah, I mean you hoes too You run around the town giving up the walking jaws To tell the truth about it, man, you hoes is breaking laws [Verse 2: JT the Bigga Figga & D-Moe] Well, youngsta, here we go again Talking 'bout these niggas and these hoes who gafflin' fools up for their ends And never to ever say who's right one Bouncin' 'em up and down around the town all night, son And yes they out to get ya, they wanna take your picture And smoke a Swisher Sweet to the funky last beat Made by the player, could I save a ho? Oh, no My nigga D-Moe could tell you better how the shit go Save a ho, pay a ho, fool, you better play that ho I'd rather break a ho down like some indio Feeling you out, flipping the flow, talking about these niggas and hoes Who thought it was all good when they sent their hoes digging for gold The gold mine, it's gon' shine, I'm strapped with my chrome 9 The gameplan was tight, but I knew it all the fuckin' time I mean, if niggas be marked, boo, plus niggas be markin' too The shiesty ass hoes'll burn a nigga like barbecue Damn, you fuckin' ass bitch, you better strap your hat And if she live in the 'Moe, you better strap your gat 'Cause the way the shit flow is the way the shit go 'Cause when you're mackin' in Frisco, you strapped with your pistol Debatin' and player hatin', saltin' and conversatin' Yes, they out to getcha because of the moves they be making They out to get ya [Outro dialogue]