Swagga Like A Dopeboy Lyrics

Ya dig? Twista baby
Swagger like a dope boy, eye full of sky, all I see is turquoise
I be holdin and I'm rollin with the murk boys, stuntin with a pocket full of C-notes boy
Uh - it's the Twista, I'm back to work, when you see me talkin shit I get to act berserk
Treat a bitch like a nigga then smack her first then treat a nigga like a bitch and then snatch her purse
Ah, I still do it, listen to the beat and blow kill to it
Come up with some shit that make a nigga act up and a bitch wanna pop that pill to it
Chi-Town get buck, so don't f**k with them cause they will do it
Them VD's and Stones'll put it straight in your dome, I know conservatives'll make real fluid
Niggaz yellin "Almighty boy," hammer cocked back like The Mighty Thor
(Avengin) the death of a night before, like the gangstas'll do when they ignitin war
And the Windy City dreadheads, spray up your house and leave your bed red
Lay out your casket with your bedspread and leavin everybody f**kin with the Greg[?] dead
Cause I cain't go; codeine, swag, cocaine flow
Feelin better when everything is in slow-mo, cheddar with a methamphetamine, no joke
Uh - gotta let you know boy, for the beef dope must be the antidote boy
I wear my gold like a pimp do, and I got the low-key demeanor of a coke boy

And my - swagger like a dope boy (swagger like a dope boy)...
Swagger like a dope boy, st-st-stuntin with a pocket full of C-notes boy
Swagger like a dope boy, like a dope boy, like a dope boy
Swagger like a dope boy, st-st-stuntin with a pocket full of C-notes boy
Swagger like a dope boy (swagger like a dope boy)

Halloween in the Phantom or a Ghost boy
Got my shooters in the club with the toast boy, gunnin if they catch you comin too close boy
Yes; hit his head with the back of the gun, Jordans on and they sportin the spectacular ones
Robbin jeans with the front up in the back of the tongue, and I got some drama for you if you askin for some
Uh, I know some niggaz that'll rob for a livin (yea) I know some bitches that'll slob for the killin (yea)
Some people that don't wanna starve so they dealin with a cost for the peelin, shit is hard for a villain
I know some niggaz that say they would, but I'd rather f**k with them cause their 'fetti good (yeah)
Steak and shrimp in first class flights and ride in Bentley coupes cause every day they jux
(Woo!) When the bitches see us comin they be lookin like "There they go" (they go)
(Woo!) When we see the police comin they be lookin like "Where they go?" (they go)
Stayin low in them Louis Vuitton shoes, Hermes belt with the Cavallis on
To another party and they polly strong, swag on them haters is what I be on
Uh - how I'm walkin in the shit that I be wearin, make 'em all wanna do it like me (like me)
Make the bitches start trippin on their man when they see me in the Gucci white tee (white tee)
In the whip so gross boy, I do thangs, two chains on the throat boy
Cause I, be throwin money like the ballers do, and I got the low-key demeanor of a coke boy (yeah)


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Songwriter(s): Michael A. Moore, Carl Terrell Mitchell
Record Label(s): 2013 GMG Entertainment LLC
Official lyrics by

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