5, Deuce, 4, Tre Lyrics

In background of hook: {Hey, hey, hey, hey}

[Hook]
I'm still buckin' like five, deuce, four, tre
Shawt, shawty (somebody better tell 'em)
I'm still buckin' like five, deuce, four, tre (I'm Mr. Fat Face)
I come through swervin' (somebody better tell 'em)
I'm still buckin' like five, deuce, four, tre
Shawt, shawty (somebody better tell 'em)
I'm still buckin' like five, deuce, four, tre (I'm Mr. Fat Face)
I come through swervin' (somebody better tell 'em)

[Verse 1]
I'm border, grit on that killer
They call it Front Street, know about it nigga
He work the concretes 'til break daylight
You see him post up in the cut, how many?
I ain't servin' nothin' but pure products
I swerk that walk, qoute that slang, choke that thang
I'm talkin' 'bout "I ain't dressin'", nothin' but pain
Keep the Cheverolet funked out
I ain't f*ckin' witcha girl 'less y'all trunked out
I come through, tear that ass up
Whippin' new grain and he all glassed up
You see us swervin' on some seventeen-nines
Mr. F.F., I'ma stay bright everytime

[Hook]

[Verse 2]
Talk a dollar outta dime, drinkin' liq wit lime
Pull out sideways and leave these suckas from the line
Over time, like ten 'til, see 'em grin with the grill
Superclean see a gleam through the windsheild It's everyday like the clock tick
Hit me with some super thick up in the cockpit
It's off limits baby, you see the handstiched material
Workin' the original interial
Up in a coma, get he and Bean up out the trunk
I step on stage and get the whole place crunk
Always garuntee freind-shh y'all
You shoulda rocked the microphone to this, y'all
Yes sir, hold on, hold the dice
Set these down, then I'm gone
One more shot cause I'm on tonight
I shook another fifty-two
Now tell me what do they wants to do?

[Hook]

[Verse 3]
I supply these motherf*ckers with the right dosage
Now hear, bust it open, get it smokin', that's him
Sack it up and watch it jump out the gym
Shorty told you what it is when you come through here
This sucker emcee say he lookin' for me
Tell him, ain't nothin' nigga, is you the police
When I put the mic down they say they found residue
And the laws wanna charge me for verbal abuse
Blow smoke up out the roof, cause they ain't got no proof
Six-eights, skate Decatur, they ass through, I'm sayin'
Go getcha ass bread, ya undertsand
Man these niggas think I'm playin'
(Man they boy for real)

[Hook]

{*scratching*}
Five, deuce, four, tre
Shawt, shawty

(repeat to fade)

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