Walk in wit the M.O. Songtext
von Freddie Gibbs feat. Dom Kennedy
Walk in wit the M.O. Songtext
Startin′ fresh baby, you know what I mean
Huh, bitch
(Cookin Soul)
Huh, bitch
I steps in the mo, where the hoes at, baby?
Yeah, yeah
I steps in the mo, where the hoes at? Huh
I want a girl with extensions in her hair
Skin tight pants, muff print, no underwear
A Fendi bag and a bad attitude, huh
She give me head in a Carrera and cruise
She addicted to the D-boyz talking that street slang
That keep the dick up in her 2 feet in the D game
Standing on the bus stop, mama hold my bag of rocks
Jumped up out that hooptie, this summer baby we in the drop
Spend it and flaunt it, take your pick however you want it
Don't mind bitches, my side bitches not your opponents
They simply leasing this penis baby, but I′m the owner
My Compton bitch heard polices raid me in California
So I done cut a lot of hoes off
I activate this Actavis so I can dose off
And I don't argue with no bitch, I set that straight from the gate
Bet all my mack and moneymakers relate
I'm just a player, baby
That′s why it′s money over bitches
I steps in with the mo, where the hoes at, baby?
That's why it′s money over bitches
I steps in with the mo, where the hoes at?
It's always money over bitches
I steps in with the mo, where the hoes at, baby?
That′s why it's money over bitches
I steps in with the mo, where the hoes at?
This might be hard as it get
I bought an ounce on the first like it was part of my rent
I′m in Paris drinking Moët, thank God for this shit
'Cause I'm from South Central, baby, pardon my French
Yeah, I know ball players, James Harden and shit
Cash a check in New York at the Garden and shit
Heard The Yellow Album, now she part of the clique
West side get the money yea we started this shit
Oh, you getting head now, look, I taught her this shit
This nigga treat her like she your daughter and shit
Type of nigga golfing with her father and shit
Found out I was fucking, he was bothered a bit
I′m a cool nigga, it′s not a problem to switch
Look you in yo' face, what type of problem is this?
Caught him on the chin then he stumbled a bit
The right then left niggas rumbled and shit
I got on red, bet he think I′m from the jungles and shit
Nasty like my brother named Jungle and shit
Ay, Other People Money make double and shit
This me and gangster, Gibbs, you in trouble, ya dig?
That's why it′s money over bitches
I steps in with the mo, where the hoes at, baby?
That's why it′s money over bitches
I steps in with the mo, where the hoes at?
It's always money over bitches
I steps in with the mo, where the hoes at, baby?
That's why it′s money over bitches
I steps in with the mo, where the hoes at?
Huh, bitch
(Cookin Soul)
Huh, bitch
I steps in the mo, where the hoes at, baby?
Yeah, yeah
I steps in the mo, where the hoes at? Huh
I want a girl with extensions in her hair
Skin tight pants, muff print, no underwear
A Fendi bag and a bad attitude, huh
She give me head in a Carrera and cruise
She addicted to the D-boyz talking that street slang
That keep the dick up in her 2 feet in the D game
Standing on the bus stop, mama hold my bag of rocks
Jumped up out that hooptie, this summer baby we in the drop
Spend it and flaunt it, take your pick however you want it
Don't mind bitches, my side bitches not your opponents
They simply leasing this penis baby, but I′m the owner
My Compton bitch heard polices raid me in California
So I done cut a lot of hoes off
I activate this Actavis so I can dose off
And I don't argue with no bitch, I set that straight from the gate
Bet all my mack and moneymakers relate
I'm just a player, baby
That′s why it′s money over bitches
I steps in with the mo, where the hoes at, baby?
That's why it′s money over bitches
I steps in with the mo, where the hoes at?
It's always money over bitches
I steps in with the mo, where the hoes at, baby?
That′s why it's money over bitches
I steps in with the mo, where the hoes at?
This might be hard as it get
I bought an ounce on the first like it was part of my rent
I′m in Paris drinking Moët, thank God for this shit
'Cause I'm from South Central, baby, pardon my French
Yeah, I know ball players, James Harden and shit
Cash a check in New York at the Garden and shit
Heard The Yellow Album, now she part of the clique
West side get the money yea we started this shit
Oh, you getting head now, look, I taught her this shit
This nigga treat her like she your daughter and shit
Type of nigga golfing with her father and shit
Found out I was fucking, he was bothered a bit
I′m a cool nigga, it′s not a problem to switch
Look you in yo' face, what type of problem is this?
Caught him on the chin then he stumbled a bit
The right then left niggas rumbled and shit
I got on red, bet he think I′m from the jungles and shit
Nasty like my brother named Jungle and shit
Ay, Other People Money make double and shit
This me and gangster, Gibbs, you in trouble, ya dig?
That's why it′s money over bitches
I steps in with the mo, where the hoes at, baby?
That's why it′s money over bitches
I steps in with the mo, where the hoes at?
It's always money over bitches
I steps in with the mo, where the hoes at, baby?
That's why it′s money over bitches
I steps in with the mo, where the hoes at?
Writer(s): Cookin Soul, Fredrick Tipton Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
