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Artist: Timbo King
Album:  Gangsta Chronicles
Song:   One 4 Big Gats
Typed by: Cno Evil

[Chorus: Timbo King]
Aiyo, one for big gats, and two for the dough
Three for fast whips, and four for hoes
You know, Bo King, Fort Knox, run up your crib
No door knock, just them things that go glock-glock

[Timbo King]
Humphrey Bogart, mean streets, beam jeeps
After the grind, we want it, we don't have it
We pull hammers, them bing slammers, home of the fort
Them O.G.'s, taught young guns, spiteful
Home of the shiest dice rollers, cases
Big faces, them hoes around...
Keep alert, home oppose a round, that money talk
B shorty, let him come up
Push that five double 0, what up, cook that cut up
'Cronz and them, plus moms and them
Yeah, we got much more bombs than them, they assed out
Drugs made 'em pass out, we throw rocks at your glass house
Smash them windows in that six, nigga
Come on that block, with the six, nigga
Ya'll throw your ass up out of that, nigga


[Timbo King]
The Plaza's real, half a mill
One corner, half your deal, make it
Compute D sells, let the nina off three shells
Got 'dro, but we need L's
Stan City, your man get it, Judas-Judas
Go pick up 10 cent from Brutus, now who this nigga with you?
Funny face, put them things in your face
Smile now, you assed out, get mashed out
One of the realest and Hogan, and still holding
Without street smarts, you assed out
No hustle, no grind grizzle, you assed out
Them things blast out, when you ass out, nigga