Speakin My Language - Lil' Flip, Gudda Gudda, Young Money

Ay now you can catch me in the club, with my pistol in my pocket

Niggas talkin that shit but they know they better stop it

It’s Flip Gates the number one Fly Boy

Try to reach for my jewelry nigga, you could die boy

I’m a southside nigga steadily movin my work

Steadily movin that purp, yeah I do my own dirt

See these niggas get alittle money then they change

But you ain’t no bitch I’m fly like Wayne

Fly Boy tennis shoes-just to match the piece

If you from the south, you gotta have a stiff creese

Heavy starch in the jeans that’s how we do it

Back in '95, I had them 20's on my Buick

But now I’m in the Lam-and I don’t give a damn

When you make ya money you better pay Uncle Sam

Cause they’ll come and get ya cars like J. D

It’s Flip Gates, fuck boy you gon’pay me

(Chorus-Lil' Flip + Young Noble)

You ain’t talkin bout money-you ain’t speakin my language

You ain’t talkin bout money-you ain’t speakin my language

You ain’t talkin bout money-you ain’t speakin my language

Don’t you fuck with Flip Gates, cause this shit get dangerous

You ain’t talkin bout money-you ain’t speakin my language

You ain’t talkin bout money-you ain’t speakin my language

You ain’t talkin bout money-you ain’t speakin my language

Don’t you fuck with Young Noble, cause this shit get dangerous

If it ain’t about a dollar, you prolly shouldn’t holla

Uh three wheelin my Impala, inhalin on the ganja

My women know I’m a rider-shades made by Prada (yea)

Mob through the club like I’m one of the fuckin owners

I’m a Outlaw solider (Outlawz)

We hot now, still my heart alittle colder

I do this for the hustlas

Come here little mama get a dose of this pimpin

If that pussy still drippin a nigga still tippin

Got me leanin to the left and sippin on that Goose

When I’m leanin to the right I’m off that California kush

If you ain’t talkin green then you speakin chinese-or-spanish

Either way I don’t understand it

So I’m stayin on my grind, I’m stayin on my grizzly

I stay so fuckin busy all my bitches say they miss me

I’m in the club tipsy throwin out stacks

Young Noble and Lil' Flip-tell the DJ bring it back

(Chorus-Lil' Flip + Young Noble)

I rock a fresh baldy and shades, spinnin on blades

These are the times and these are the ways we get paid

Dickie buttoned to the top for my doggs and locs

If I don’t know you mothafucka don’t get to close

We in the club poppin them bottles, hollerin at models

Leviate, never hesitate to rock you with hollows

We be them Outlaw leaders see the game done followed

I spitt that ghetto gospel truth like it’s straight from the Bible

It’s not a seat but I’m a solider so keep yo composure hoe

Slip on ya toes and yo, we be the chosen few

Way cool, way over due-stay tuned it ain’t over troops

Operatin under thug laws as a warrior man

Remain that till the coroner man

And been that from the corner with grands

Leanin hard to the left with my hoodie on, gettin that cash

And gotta dip in the stash (yeah)

(Chorus-Lil' Flip + Young Noble]

(Young Noble talking)

Yeah, Young Noble-Outlaw-uhhh

Lil' Flip in this*scratching*Clover G’s

Yeah, (Cloverland wut up)

Sac what’s happenin (dirty third wut up)

Real Talk Entertainment

Uhhh get ya money nigga-get ya money