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Drego & Beno – Same Nigga lyrics
[Intro: Drego]
Man
[Verse 1: Drego]
Ayy, that lil' shit you flashin', I just poured in a fluid
Five hundred, that's your rent, we put that shit in a 'Wood
Ain't shit change, nigga, we just got some fame in the hood
I'm still the same nigga, I just brought the plug to the hood
They say ain't no straps allowed, I'm still Jim Carrey-ing
We got more fuckin' routes than that bitch Harriet
I be talkin' when we fuckin', yeah, I need merited
Yeah it's F-A-B-P-H-B, fuck a bitch, pay her bills
[Verse 2: Beno]
Would I choose the lean over her? Shit, hell yeah
Will I put the bag down for her? Shit, I wouldn't dare
I clutch the pole 'cause I seen an opp in my rear
All this shit we did in two years, we really spent a mil'
We got the turn-around on dog and we got a deal
And we got the turn-around on oranges when I'm in the 'Ville
Lil' cuz hit the road just to sip a seal
My sister said can she ship some shit? I said, "You might as well"
I would give you some game, but you tight as hell
I can't show her anything 'cause she might just tell
[Verse 3: Drego]
Man, with this Glock 19 I feel like Raja Bell
These niggas ain't built to last, man, these niggas frail
I can't even lie, yeah, it's goin' swell
This one route I got, heavy clientele
It's like I ain't smoking weed, I can't take an L
Yeah, it's time to od, bring a Wocky seal
This fast shooter that I got, I call him Terry Mills
Catch your ass on Warren and Bonners at the Forman Mills
It might be a holiday, my hitter throwin' deals
A light fifteen hundred'll get a nigga killed
Yeah, he construction work, yeah, he good with drills
Three-hundred sixty-five days just to get a mil'
My baby turn around and turn around, he dizzy now
I told him slow down on the road, he up fifty now
Martin Lawrence off of Life, he gon' get the pie
Then get that bitch in the kitchen, he gon' whip it now
[Verse 4: Beno]
We got that 1738, that Fetty Wap
Off that one trap, made like fifty thousand, sixty thousand
Swear to God I hate a bitch that be always hounding
Get that bag goin' real fast and buy your bitch designer
Pull up and stunt on your block and play you like a coward
My old heads, they still rich, they turn it up off powder
Man
[Verse 1: Drego]
Ayy, that lil' shit you flashin', I just poured in a fluid
Five hundred, that's your rent, we put that shit in a 'Wood
Ain't shit change, nigga, we just got some fame in the hood
I'm still the same nigga, I just brought the plug to the hood
They say ain't no straps allowed, I'm still Jim Carrey-ing
We got more fuckin' routes than that bitch Harriet
I be talkin' when we fuckin', yeah, I need merited
Yeah it's F-A-B-P-H-B, fuck a bitch, pay her bills
[Verse 2: Beno]
Would I choose the lean over her? Shit, hell yeah
Will I put the bag down for her? Shit, I wouldn't dare
I clutch the pole 'cause I seen an opp in my rear
All this shit we did in two years, we really spent a mil'
We got the turn-around on dog and we got a deal
And we got the turn-around on oranges when I'm in the 'Ville
Lil' cuz hit the road just to sip a seal
My sister said can she ship some shit? I said, "You might as well"
I would give you some game, but you tight as hell
I can't show her anything 'cause she might just tell
[Verse 3: Drego]
Man, with this Glock 19 I feel like Raja Bell
These niggas ain't built to last, man, these niggas frail
I can't even lie, yeah, it's goin' swell
This one route I got, heavy clientele
It's like I ain't smoking weed, I can't take an L
Yeah, it's time to od, bring a Wocky seal
This fast shooter that I got, I call him Terry Mills
Catch your ass on Warren and Bonners at the Forman Mills
It might be a holiday, my hitter throwin' deals
A light fifteen hundred'll get a nigga killed
Yeah, he construction work, yeah, he good with drills
Three-hundred sixty-five days just to get a mil'
My baby turn around and turn around, he dizzy now
I told him slow down on the road, he up fifty now
Martin Lawrence off of Life, he gon' get the pie
Then get that bitch in the kitchen, he gon' whip it now
[Verse 4: Beno]
We got that 1738, that Fetty Wap
Off that one trap, made like fifty thousand, sixty thousand
Swear to God I hate a bitch that be always hounding
Get that bag goin' real fast and buy your bitch designer
Pull up and stunt on your block and play you like a coward
My old heads, they still rich, they turn it up off powder
Lyrics taken from
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