Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
G.T.
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
G.T.
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Okay Jones
Producer
Von Classics
Producer
Lyrics
[Verse 1]
Blowin' out the turkey bag, it's almost time for Thanksgiving
Fuck what **** talkin' 'bout, we the ones who get it
The streets ain't safe for no ****, but we still in it
Got about a fifty on me right now, in these plaid Dickies
I can point you to the right spot, you wanna get it
Just 'cause seven eight two eight, boss, I just caught a chicken
Profit off them break downs, that's a good feeling
When they cut from across Eight Mile, you know you winnin'
The game full of politics, we the politicians
Brodie just got tapped in, with the bricks we on a mission
It's a good feeling, you can split it with your ****
Then bust a bag down, all the biggies and them splitties
Posted in the spot, got four Souther the **** with me
Other folks stay on the roll, they can bash 360
Last play was for a thousand pills that go for sixty
Hit the Veet-mo blues for thirty, e'erytime they come get with me
[Verse 2]
We sell dope, yeah
I can get you what you want
Take your folks in, let's pack it up and send it out
You gettin' money, yeah
You know what these hoes want, yeah
I'ma keep doin' what these **** don't
You sell dope, yeah
I can get you what you want
Take your folks in, let's pack it up and send it out
You gettin' money, yeah
You know what these hoes want, yeah
I'ma keep doin' what these **** don't
[Verse 3]
My hustle relentless
These **** pitiful
And when you really in these streets
Shit get critical
A lotta **** wanna talk, not get physical
They'll trick you off the streets, boy, don't be a fool
Your family'll turn on ya, shit get wicked
You see what people really do for money 'round Christmas
'Round here, we got them sticks, a bunch of Bloods and Crips
Every year a **** 'round this bitch with the shit
Pass me a thousand ones, we ain't nowhere done
It started off light, now we gotta run
I used to have dreams, again flow with tons
I was taught, outshine the master, you get unplugged
I'ma product of my environment, it's fulla drugs
The east side of Detroit, labeled as a slum
Boy, two oh five to seventy five, we get the job done
You could pull up right now, if you wanna cop some
[Verse 4]
We sell dope, yeah
I can get you what you want
Take your folks in, let's pack it up and send it out
You gettin' money, yeah
You know what these hoes want, yeah
I'ma keep doin' what these **** don't
You sell dope, yeah
I can get you what you want
Take your folks in, let's pack it up and send it out
You gettin' money, yeah
You know what these hoes want, yeah
I'ma keep doin' what these **** don't
Written by: Gabor Turucz