shapootk's BLOG

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{Convict}
(Yeah, SHADY)
{Convict Music}
(Guess who's back)
Still here, haters
{Akon & Obie Trice, Yeah}
Whatcha gonna do it with it, A?
Whatcha gonna do?
{Take em on back to the streets}

Chorus: Akon
I keep the 40 cal on my side
Steppin with the mindstate of the mobster
See a nigga pass by
Tuck your chain in cause he might rob ya
Got glocks for sale, red tops for sale
Anything you need, believe me, I'm gon lace you
Just don't whatever you do, Snitch
Cause you will get hit, pray I don't lace you, yeah

Obie Trice
It's risky, the bitch tend to rise out a nigga
It's history, Snitch, who decided he's a member
Once he got pinched, coincided with law
Same homie say he lay it down for the boy
Brought game squad around ours
How could it be? Been homies since Superman draws
Only foniness never came to par
He had us, a true neighborhood actor
Had his back with K's
Now we see through him like X-Ray's......

Show off that body you got
You got that dance floor so hot
You workin that, You twerkin that
You checkin that, like a clock

Cant nobody do it like I do it,
When I do it, dog I do it
(Break it down) Break it down putcho back into it
Main Yall aint ready for the **** im doing
(Get up) Get up Putcho drinks down
Dont want yall sausy your drinks out
All over that your cheap blouse aint nothin but a small any anyhow
(Still me) Still me I just changed the sound to the other one I had and just swapped it out
(Switch) Kept somethin in the backround, cuz you in love with the song but you in love with the backround
Come on let a momma work for me
Make a playa wanna spend some money
(Come on) I dont really like to spend a money
But you can do what you do and do it well Imma

Show off that body you got
You got that dance floor so hot
You workin that, You twerkin that
You checkin that, like a clock

(Show up) Show up, empty
Nothin in um, Her..her
No Silicone,......

"How was your golf game, dear?" asked Jack's wife Tracy.

"Well, I was hitting pretty well, but my eyesight's gotten so bad I couldn't see where the ball went."

"But you're seventy-five years old, Jack!" admonished his wife, "Why don't you take my brother Scott along?"

"But he's eighty-five and doesn't even play golf anymore," protested Jack.

"But he's got perfect eyesight. He could watch your ball," Tracy pointed out.

The next day Jack teed off with Scott looking on. Jack swung, and the ball disappeared down the middle of the fairway. "Do you see it?" asked Jack.

"Yup," Scott answered.

"Well, where is it?" yelled Jack, peering off into the distance.

"I forgot."