Текст песни: The Whole Thang + перевод

Back in the muthafuckin' house for the 9-trizzay

My boy JT the Bigga Figga, young playa from the Bizzay

Flippin' the script and snatchin' grip

Throwing way too many shots at to you mark ass niggas domes

Know what I’m sayin', y’all can’t fuck with the Get Low P, mayne

You comin' to get, you checkin' my style

I’m flippin' it well on top of the pile

I’m breakin' it down to put on accounts

So jump in your bucket and swing it around

Remember the plan, I gave you a gram, so siggidy-scram this party

Figgedy-flip the triggidy-track, I’m making it phat by trickin' my stack

You’re breakin' your back, you’re breakin' your bone

You pick on the suckers who ready to roll

Y’all humblin', bumblin', fumblin', talking about the suckers who mumblin'

Bubblin', doublin' up my miggidy-mail while making it swell

For shiggidy-show and tiznell for doing the shit wiznell

Making my own, making it dome, making the shit to shake your home

You rattle and thump and jiggidy-jump, I ain’t no punk busta

Cream of the crop, crop of the creep

Running the ones who ready to sleep

Making the beat complete, so saucy that they turning their cheek

Deliver the blow, I’m lettin' 'em know

This is the way I fliggedy-flow

I’m from the town, I’m breaking it down legitimate, get rid of it

You shoulda hit the button, I’m cuttin', they bluffin'

Shake up the cake, make it and bake, 36 O’s of

36 soldiers on the strip smoking doja

I told ya, I rolled ya, now I gotta throw ya

And if I hold ya, who gon' hold me?

How you gon' stop a G with a whole ki?

Now that’s what the fuck I’m talking about

Niggas can’t fade the Get Low flow 'cause we coming way doper than yayo

Mail stack so capital but don’t get dramatical

The bullets go automatical

So if it’s static, go, roll up the window and light the indio

And oh, I’m D-Moe, and that’s my folks, the Bigga Figga

And we gon' hit the way way for 9-trey-trey

And get low and to throw your back door in 9−4, you knid-know, hoe?

Yeah, we know what time it is, boy

They can’t fuck with the flavor

Break it on down

So, Bigga Figga, you making beats and shit like this now, huh?

Yeah, you know I’m making that shit

Oh, they can’t fuck with me on no beats

Young nigga poppin' that shit and laying them tracks, you know what I’m saying

At the house at that, ha

Yeah, the Get Low P coming way too tight for 9-trey, 9−4, and 9−5

Just a little something to ride to

Yeah, check it out

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