Doe B - Half Time [Lyrics/Paroles]

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Doe B - Half Time

[Intro: DJ Scream]

As long as DJ Scream right here

As long as Bigga Rankin right here

Frank White

The whole world needs to know

Doe B gon’ live forever

[Verse 1: Doe B]


I’m talkin’ half time

H-Town, half a brick sh*t

Remix, in the drought

Get you rich sh*t

Who got it? They got it, we yellin’

That hit a lick sh*t

Show a monkey ass n*gga

How a banana splits sh*t

Fifty rounds, hundred rounds

That’s that drum sh*t

Band practice

F*ck around and get your dome hit

By starin’ at me

I’m paranoid like I’m on it

Sold so many bricks, I f*ck around

And make your home flip

Real estate

F*ck where you’re from, I’m from a realer state

Fish fillet, fish scale

Boy, that’s killer yay

Weigh your white

Then pull up on you with a pillowcase

And sell you some

You getting’ money, nigga tell me something

[Interlude: Doe B]

Hey, ya’ll n*ggas gettin’ money out there or what n*gga?

(N*ggas not gettin’ no money, man)

Huh? Let me know somethin’, boy

(I don’t believe these n*ggas, brah)

Hey, I see you n*ggas

(Real talk!)

Hahaha! You seem on sh*t for real though, n*gga (for real!)

On Ma!

[Verse 2: Doe B]

I’m talkin’ Circle K

Been straight, n*gga Court Street

Irene, sour Dees, n*gga O.G

Shop with me

All the real n*ggas know me

They f*ck with me

Ask about me, boy I got the streets

Stupid clientele got my name ringin’ bells

Got a Cali plug for real

Say the word, he’s breakin’ bails

I got birds, I got squares

Pull up on ya with some sh*t

Get caught with this, you gettin’ an L

If you’re scared, say you’re scared

Every night I say my prayers

Cross my heart, hope they don’t tell

If you catch the wrong cell

You might end up in a cell

Cocaine paraphernal’

Get your ass some long years

B*tch n*ggas never graduated

Get more money than a mil

B*tch it’s trap life!

What you n*ggas know about it?

Yea, act like it

These n*ggas ain’t ‘bout no violence

Talkin’ ‘bout them killers

These n*ggas ain’t catchin’ no bodies

Boy, you get your issue

I ain’t talkin’ magazines either

A hundred pages

I ain’t talkin’ magazines neither

That AK sh*t

Everything we tote illegal

That mayday sh*t

Let’s call it quits, these n*ggas evil

Cold turkey

I’ll turn this b*tch to Thanksgiving

Back with no mercy

Hot sh*t straight out the kitchen

Let it burn like Hershel

And that choppa got rhythm

It don’t skip a beat

You laid up in a hospital

‘Till your sh*t go bee-eee-p

F*ck n*gga, trick or treat!

In your house with the mask

Like it’s time to eat

Come on hurry with them bags

My lil’ n*ggas starvin’

And they’re preyin’ on a body

With no holy water

God damn, these n*ggas violent (sh*t!)

[Outro: Doe B]


Come up off that, my n*gga

(Let me get that)

We have to take what’s ours, n*gga (huh?)

So whoever says they’ve got the street (who got the streets, n*gga?)

You know what I mean?

You need that, right now, A.S.A.P., n*gga (pronto!)

See me on television getting’ money, n*gga

This sh*t right here (haha!)

They ain’t gon’ like this sh*t

(On my life?), n*gga


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