Strapped Up - Boosie Badazz, C-Murder

Money beats

Boosie Badazz nigga

And I keep my shit nigga, it’s part of my outfit

Just like I put on my shoes I put on my stray

Believe that nigga

Got my shit all in a shit my nigga

See I talk shit cause I’m boss shit, you is just a juvenile

You could die, he could die, believe me I’m all homicide

I got my strap, C got his strap

We just bossy yes we got bread so we don’t kidnap

If I’m fucking with that, I’m fucking with it asap

And everything that I wet, it ain’t a act it’s a fact

I got a vest in my rack so if you shoot at my back, it’s worthless

Turn around and start to bawl like some churches

Man we ball close with some police when it come to killing Ya’ll bogus

Ain’t no alright in my bed when I see you see, ain’t posing

I see ride that pony, seven kicks, Roney dead

Still I lay off easy man with seven prices on my head

Keep it in the club with me, fuck the fame

Man I get off the pain’s waiting at the bailer’s claim

And it ain’t no ratting in me nigga

Ain’t jumping, I’m dunking

If you looking for me nigga

I ain’t stunting I’m coming, I’m strapped

If I got my strap and he got his gas

Don’t fuck with me homeboy

I’m fucking with that

See me as a block boy

A Cali young pall head

And I’m from the south nigga

You see what we bout nigga

If I got my strap and he got his gas

Don’t fuck with me homeboy

I’m fucking with that

See me as a block boy

A Cali young pall head

And I’m from the south nigga

You see what we bout nigga

I say what I mean ya’ll, don’t slip when I give way

They say that I slung bird, but believe that I moonbird

A chick and the fish tails, the murderer don’t tell tales

The goons that tells tales, the ones ain’t make bail

The goons that make jail, they lying on they name dawg

They lying on the dick too, they the ones that fall off

See niggas say anything for a little respect yes

Like an accident waiting to happen, nigga a trainwreck

Took a picture and frame that with a Glock in my right hand

And I sleep with that same Glock on the top of my nightstand

See life is a crap game, grab all your crap out

But Boosie ain’t dead dawg, that nigga with the strap out

The one with the MAC out on a post at the crack house

They go to the stash house they busting then smash out

He mad cause he breathing is easing, no memories

He mad cause his breathing is

If I got my strap and he got his gas

Don’t fuck with me homeboy

I’m fucking with that

See me as a block boy

A Cali young pall head

And I’m from the south nigga

You see what we bout nigga

If I got my strap and he got his gas

Don’t fuck with me homeboy

I’m fucking with that

See me as a block boy

A Cali young pall head

And I’m from the south nigga

You see what we bout nigga