Byrd Call feat. Cam'Ron

[Intro: Cam'Ron]

yo JR?, they've been waitin' for you dawg, they've been asking

you ready? Dipset, Lets Go, Writer

[HOOK: JR Writer]

To all my hustlers, rock smugglers, stugglers

block bubblers, pushers, cookers' pot jugglers

Whats the word y'all, Flip that herb raw

Clap, (clap clap) thats the bird-call

If the cops are comin', get to hop n' runnin'

Quick and drop that onion, ain't no stoppin' young'un

Put away that herb raw, let'us know the word whore

Clap, (clap clap) thats the bird-call

[JR Writer]

i still be where the weed flip, and the peas with the trees lit

so much water in the order, its just leaving them sea sick

but its me in my V6, trying to skeet on her bead lips

they dont know, like im trying to keep her a secret

act wrong, chrome, passin me dome

next minute, shit im finished, she'll be flaggin' it home

but i always keep a straggler, thats known to bone

and run through a lap, faster than marion jones

man listen, i still got them grams flippin tan pitchen, corner to the damn kitchen

gained a couple fans having made the transition

but im still in the hood like a transmission

no cat can match me, i'm passin fastly who half as nasty

i got it locked from here, all the way to cackalacky

but keep a mac for scrapping, thinkin' its just laffy taffy

shit this beat dun be the only thing clappin' at me

[HOOK:]

To all my hustlers, rock smugglers, stugglers

block bubblers, pushers, cookers' pot jugglers

Whats the word y'all, Flip that herb raw

Clap, (clap clap) thats the bird-call

If the cops are comin', get to hop n' runnin'

Quick and drop that onion, ain't no stoppin' young'un

Put away that herb raw, let'us know the word whore

Clap, (clap clap) thats the bird-call

[Cam'Ron:]

(Cam, dash, hoffa)

Damn, Homie

In high school you was the man homie

thats what a fan told me (shhhit)

same old cat, get his Kangol clapped

brains blown back, this is dame, but dame dont rap

shame on black, the game's so whack

dame sunk some children

from in front of yo buildin' straight to a hudred million

bad pimpin pimpin', bad actin' dawgy

getcha limp on pimpin', if they actin' froggy

tell'em back up off me, i come down clappin forty

pow thats a badder story, not in my category

mess around, dame held def jam down

supporting my back, jackin' and they left their pounds

red-neck found, tech tech pound

duck duck goose, pump pump shoot, shoot lets get down

it may seem petty, but we all turn mean deadly

for green-fetti, my whole team ready

[HOOK:]

To all my hustlers, rock smugglers, stugglers

block bubblers, pushers, cookers' pot jugglers

Whats the word y'all, Flip that herb raw

Clap, (clap clap) thats the bird-call

If the cops are comin', get to hop n' runnin'

Quick and drop that onion, ain't no stoppin' young'un

Put away that herb raw, let'us know the word whore

Clap, (clap clap) thats the bird-call

[Exit Verse: JR Writer]

this ain't only bars and tracks, this is for the hardest cats

flippin all the harder back, make them catch a heart attack

when you see the narcs attack lemme know, start to clap, clap ,clap

but start with he deals, your pa be on chill

the car is DeVille, is real ill

heart in the grill its far in my mills

Cruise the city with the semi or the celly

on skinnies like i'm starving my wheels