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letra de two turntables and a mic - dj op

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(intro)
hey, yo, op, hit me friend
don’t drink all that jagg’, n-gg-

(verse)
runnin’, gunnin’, otha hand
hard life, sittin’, dryin’ under fan
look out, chillin’, watchin’ for the man
trips down the va in the customized van
om3’s, little gt’s
big sky jacket with the rack for the skies
dono, throwin’ bolo’s
if i need it i had to do stoots in the a solo
f-ck the popo, i grew up fast
thought i was willie when i did the pockanose
f-ckin’ the champagne gl-ss buck naked, no towel
d-ck hangin’, not givin’ a f-ck
rollin’ up a white owl
mega weed, big -ss bag with h-lla seeds
n-gg- knew his math, but n-gg- will never read
i knew how much i made and i knew who i had to feed
any n-gg- come against, any n-gg- gon’ bleed

(outro)
a.k.a. mr. crabs!

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