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Closin' Down Shop (featuring Magic & Soulja Slim)

Say Magic Slim bro nigga

We gotta go ahead and close that

Little quarter shop we got on Broad

Fuck them niggas watchin' us, bro

We gotta lay low nigga, fuckI'm closin' down shop so clientel stops

Knockin' at my door, fuck no

I don't have no more delays not bein' sold

'Cause it's too hot plus I'm on paroleI'm closin' down shop so clientel stops

Knockin' at my door, fuck no

I don't have no more delays not bein' sold

'Cause it's too hot plus I'm on paroleIt's twelve in the noon, I'm just wakin' up from a flight

Hicks been knockin' at my door all goddamn night

And my hoe she busted talkin' about she tired of that

Deep and down tell her 'bout how much paper we be stackin'

'Cause they run from that smack and that shit I got raw

Don't ya be a dog, this delay might bust your heart

And the niggas that I get it from supplies the city

They got other niggas with it but they bags be shitty

'Cause they tryin' to put too much cut on the dope

To make a little ends but the only person scorin' is they friendsThey got twenty dollar bags they got ten

But now you going, let your boy move all the ends

Now see my clients, they know what the fuck they be buyin'

They be comin', shop be closed and they still be runnin'

Makin' my shop high and they might come kick it in my spot

But I got my shit got 'cause I ain't about doin' no more time

You got on them bullet proof vests I got on mines

Bullets be flyin', flyin'I'm closin' down shop so clientel stops

Knockin' at my door, fuck no

I don't have no more delays not bein' sold

'Cause it's too hot plus I'm on paroleI'm closin' down shop 'cause my clientels gettin' too big

I got these laws on my balls and they sweatin' my shit

Dope fiends knockin' at my door, they got my spot too hot

These suckas runnin' on my colors on my quarter shop

Two baby mommas, four kids, three mack elevens

Three cars, about thirteen boo boo'sI'm just a ghetto superstar on parole

Convicted felon known for 187's and 211's

A young nigga down to do whatever

First and fifteenth checks fix blowin' up my beeper

BooKoo pages new credit, my shit is cut up and ready

I'm on top never drop, pushin' keys that rock

But I gotta close shop 'cause my spots too hotI'm closin' down shop so clientel stops

Knockin' at my door, fuck no

I don't have no more delays not bein' sold

'Cause it's too hot plus I'm on paroleI'm closin' down shop so clientel stops

Knockin' at my door, fuck no

I don't have no more delays not bein' sold

'Cause it's too hot plus I'm on parole

I'm closin' down shopBitches tryin' to catch the wrong niggas, now tell the truth

You ain't hear we came in strapped nigga, react nigga

Watch for me you don't wanna see me last, keep talkin' trash

I'm gonna be the one behind the mask, blastin' at your pussy ass

What? Boy, you disrespect my click, you stupid bitch

I'm about to jump off in your shit

I rumble in the jungle with the fiercist peice alive

Climb the biggest mountain with the highest peaks it highSpoon the biggest ocean with the biggets pocket fish

If I ever hear you speak these filthy words again

I told you mutherfuckers I was comin'

(What?)

I roll with tight mutherfuckers, stop runnin'

(Laugh, gun cock)

Don't move a fuckin' muscle got no time for no wrestlin'

Got no time for no tustlin

Shut it down

Songwriters

C Miller;Raymond Poole;J. Tapp;A JohnsonPublished by

RAYMOND EMILE POOLE;ULTRA EMPIRE MUSIC Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.

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