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Текст (слова) песни: B.G. - Order 20 Keys

[B.G.]
Fuck all that asshole and papers on my mind
Trying to come up I need every single dime
5, 9, 6, 51, 09
Look out for me, give me something properly, 100g
Drop it on Ivana street to protect it
I`m up by 2:23 and some ozzies
I got a gang of B.G. to work the shit for me
A team with a little Terrance and a little g
Alfred, Onry and Billy
Crazy phat, and my nigga Tyree
So when my nigga come home I can put him on his feet
Cuz I`m straight till the one put the drop on me
Run it through the one and only staller
It`s a young G, nuthin else than a young baller
4 and a half, for you, 4 and a half for you
And an ounce for you, I got coc for the whole crew
I`mma roll and show the rest of my niggas
Everybody I pay got the finger on the trigger
I just busted B on his 200 g`s
He called DC and order 20 more keys
I got K-C and Sam running on his brother
In pewee running in the U.P.T.
3 showed up, and the roofed came down on BFD
We got it all, so show us the 17
The B.G. is on top of Shacollars
Dream came true by becoming a young baller

Chorus:
Baby order 20 keys, hand em over to me
I`m B.G., and I`ma put em in the U.P.T.

[B.G.]
Shits getting fleded, I got mine
A niggas trying to take it
It`s must ya heard, spilling blood on the curb
It`s the dumbest shit, I`mma take it bust your shit
Now some rookies trying to show me up
Ain`t that a shame now I gotta bring out the beast in me
I`m a jack so I gotta bring out the kid in me
Act to flack of the 3 OD
Clowns should`ve done what they did to me
Bust hollow tips slugs
And they nasty ass
Digging dirty from behind my stash and cash
100 g`s, wit ease, nigga please
What I do for my years, and what I`ma do for my cheese
I learned from the best, had to pass the test
Ain`t nuttin but a left hole in the left side of my chest
Fuck wit me and you gonna learn
And you gonna get snuck, motherfucker what`s up
Ballers walk me out all night
And kibblers dogs with silly ass falls
I`m slippin, how you figure nigga
It takes street smarts to be a young baller

Chorus

[B.G.]
Now I`m bout my grip, gotta get my cheese
Gotta bout be my skrees, bustin niggas to they knees
I`m coming through your house with the glocs
Do whatcha got, I got a chopper
I gotta trunk full of funk for the haters
I`m always in the paper, me and my niggas are cappers
I`m hustler, bitch bustla, body disgusta
I`m the nigga you can`t trust, I`m a fuck ya
Seein niggas comin down from Cali
They say "yay" it`s 4:00 friday
They come and serve some people a couple of keys
I gotta hits it, I don`t know, they gotta leave
Fix the sleeve, meet me in the medigree
At the tele, they gonna get buried
I already got it, straight down flat
Run in and out, click clack of packs
4 niggas 4 keys, 4 tryin to play
I gotta correct it, split it 4 ways
I`m about having things, thats all I`ve been hoping
It`s open, so lets bust the town open
B.G. turns to stand taller
Picture all there is, is teenage ballers

Chorus

[B.G. ad libs]

 

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