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AG - Shout em Out Lyrics



AG - Shout em Out Lyrics




(feat. D-Flow, Party Arty)

[A.G.]
Yeah yeah, the dirty niggaz again
...
Check me out yo
I push the half-dozen light green, can't front
The drop 6 is quite mean, don't front
Shorty's lookin right in them skin-tight jeans
Body sick, want a lick like ice cream (go 'head)
You're jigglin baby
And my style so ill got the bitches goin crazy
The niggaz all hate me (that's why)
I keep the triggers off safety, spit about 80
I spit Vernon rock, that's hot lava
Clock on my dollar you got nada
Overlook my spot, I'll rock harder
Try to take what I got, the glock holla
"Tango & Cash," mango 'dro with the hash
Red Range Rove' with the stash
Cop was caught in plain clothes, that's his ass
Cop was caught in plain clothes, that's his ass

[Chorus]
Shout, shout, we get smoked out
We got the dirt y'all can't live without
C'mon, we're talkin to you
C'mon

[Party Arty]
No choice, I'm on this one (with no voice)
I get up in that ass with no moist
Laid up, fat nigga style
Eat everywhere I go, black nigga style
Smack a nigga up with that whack nigga style
You can't f*ck around with my rap nigga style
Dick longer than a mile, stronger than a cow
Peace to all my niggaz from Shaol' to Chi-Town
Now now, boys and girls sit down
Old folks get up and get down - wit'cho bad self
We married to the game and if rap divorce us
F*ck stress - I'ma die from natural causes
When you see us 3 in them apple Porsches
Don't run up on the car, we ain't asked to floss this
Party Arty, boss of all bosses
From the Bronx to down South - G.D. whylin out

[Chorus]

[D-Flow]
It be the same Flow, look in the ice and see the rainbow
Aim low - and hit my target price
The God spit it twice, whack rappers die on the spot
High off the charts, say another rhyme I'll fly ya knot
Get ya stacks up, rappers better call for backup
Whippin these cats like they f*cked the pack up
Spit acid, the John Wayne of this rap shit
Guns be plastic, puttin sons in caskets
Rhyme sick, shoulda heard me the first time dick
Watch a crime flick, come outside let the 9 spit
Puff Nestle, do hits on jet ski
Snipe niggaz like Wesley, "Black Mask" like Jet Li
Wear a Teflon, my cash niggaz is dead on
Mr. Dirty Don, tailor-made threads on

[Chorus x2]

C'mon

[Chorus]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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(feat. D-Flow, Party Arty)

[A.G.]
Yeah yeah, the dirty niggaz again
...
Check me out yo
I push the half-dozen light green, can't front
The drop 6 is quite mean, don't front
Shorty's lookin right in them skin-tight jeans
Body sick, want a lick like ice cream (go 'head)
You're jigglin baby
And my style so ill got the bitches goin crazy
The niggaz all hate me (that's why)
I keep the triggers off safety, spit about 80
I spit Vernon rock, that's hot lava
Clock on my dollar you got nada
Overlook my spot, I'll rock harder
Try to take what I got, the glock holla
"Tango & Cash," mango 'dro with the hash
Red Range Rove' with the stash
Cop was caught in plain clothes, that's his ass
Cop was caught in plain clothes, that's his ass

[Chorus]
Shout, shout, we get smoked out
We got the dirt y'all can't live without
C'mon, we're talkin to you
C'mon

[Party Arty]
No choice, I'm on this one (with no voice)
I get up in that ass with no moist
Laid up, fat nigga style
Eat everywhere I go, black nigga style
Smack a nigga up with that whack nigga style
You can't f*ck around with my rap nigga style
Dick longer than a mile, stronger than a cow
Peace to all my niggaz from Shaol' to Chi-Town
Now now, boys and girls sit down
Old folks get up and get down - wit'cho bad self
We married to the game and if rap divorce us
F*ck stress - I'ma die from natural causes
When you see us 3 in them apple Porsches
Don't run up on the car, we ain't asked to floss this
Party Arty, boss of all bosses
From the Bronx to down South - G.D. whylin out

[Chorus]

[D-Flow]
It be the same Flow, look in the ice and see the rainbow
Aim low - and hit my target price
The God spit it twice, whack rappers die on the spot
High off the charts, say another rhyme I'll fly ya knot
Get ya stacks up, rappers better call for backup
Whippin these cats like they f*cked the pack up
Spit acid, the John Wayne of this rap shit
Guns be plastic, puttin sons in caskets
Rhyme sick, shoulda heard me the first time dick
Watch a crime flick, come outside let the 9 spit
Puff Nestle, do hits on jet ski
Snipe niggaz like Wesley, "Black Mask" like Jet Li
Wear a Teflon, my cash niggaz is dead on
Mr. Dirty Don, tailor-made threads on

[Chorus x2]

C'mon

[Chorus]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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