B.G. – Order 20 Keys Lyrics

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[B.G.]
Fuck all that assholin papers on my mind
Trying to come up I need every single dime
5, 9, 6, 51, 09
Look out for me, give me something properly, 100g
Drop it on Ivana street to protect it
I'm up by 2:23 and some ozzies
I got a gang of B.G. to work the shit for me
A team with a little Terrance and a little g
Alfred, Onry and Billy
Crazy phat, and my nigga Tyree
So when my nigga come home I can put him on his feet
Cuz I'm straight till the one put the drop on me
Run it through the one and only staller
It's a young G, nuthin else than a young baller
4 and a half, for you, 4 and a half for you
And an ounce for you, I got coc for the whole crew
I'mma roll and show the rest of my niggas
Everybody I pay got the finger on the trigger
I just broke B on his 200 g's
He called DC and order 20 more keys
I got K-C and Sam running on his brother
In pewee running in the U.P.T
3 showed up, and the roofed came down on BFD
We got it all, so show love to the 17
The B.G. is on top of Shacollars
Dream came true by becoming a young baller

Chorus:
Baby order 20 keys, turn 10 over to me
The B.G., and I'ma put em in the U.P.T

[B.G.]
Shits getting fleded, I got mine
A niggas trying to take it
They must ain't heard, I'm spilling blood on the curb
It's the dumbest shit, I'mma take it bust your shit
Now some rookies call they self reversing it?
Now Ain't that a bitch, now I gotta bring out the real in me
I'm a jack so I gotta bring out the kill in me
Go back to the flack, got to creep 4 deep
Do them clowns what they shoulda did to me
Bust hollow tips slugs
In they nasty ass
Digging dirt behind my work for my stash and cash
Takw 100 g's, wit ease? nigga please
I do for my yeast, and what I'ma do for my cheese
I learned from the best, had the hardest test
Ain't nuttin but a left hole in the left side of my chest
Fuck wit me and you gonna learn, that chopper bullets burn
Cross my line you gonna get snuck, motherfucker get plucked
Ballers walk me out all night
In the dark, round stonyette park
Catch me slippin? how you figure nigga, Ima stand taller
It takes street smarts to be a young baller

Chorus

[B.G.]
Gotta be bout my grip, gotta be bout my cheese
Gotta bout be my yee, bustin niggas to they knees
I'm coming through your house with the glocs
Imagine whatchu got, you ain't got it, you get chopped
I gotta trunk full of funk for the haters
I'm all about my paper, me and my niggas planning capers
I'm hustler, bitch bustla, body disgusta
I'm the nigga you can't trust, I'm a fuck ya
I heard some niggas comin down from Cali
With a truck full of yay 4:00 friday
They come and serve some body a couple of keys
I gotta had that, I don't know em', they gotta leave
Tricks up the sleeve, meet me in the medigree
At the tele, they gonna get buried
I already got it, straight down flat
Run in run out, click clack of packs
4 niggas 4 keys, 4 tryin to play
I gotta correct it, split it 4 ways
I got mind into have things, thats all I've been hoping
We hit for coke, so lets bust the uptown open
The B.G. determined to stand taller
Picture that, nothing but teenage ballers

Chorus

[B.G. ad libs]

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