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Drop That Top

Max B

Public Domain 2 (Rise Of The Silver Surfer), 2007, İngilizce

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It's your boy, baby (Dipset)
You know too many niggas ain't got that riding game, man (Gain Greene)
Surviving the game, real special
They lovin' my music out here (Hot Rod, what up, nigga?)
You know, they say they got that, they say you got that Pac ride, Max (Drop the top, baby)
I tell 'em, "Nah, man, I just learned from the greatest"
I got 'em like, "Biggavelli, you that nigga, you hot in the hood" (Yeah)
"You the type of nigga, cock it and pop in the hood"
Yeah (Yeah), and I'm ready to ride
Fitted hat to the back, middle finger in the sky
You don't want it with the kid (Nope)
I'm in the best shape and you motherfuckers couldn't picture my tummy getting big (Uh-huh)
My money gettin' big (Yeah), got money in the crib
First thirty days in the can was ugly for the kid
I had to tool up, a lil' nigga in the big yard
Started at the bottom, had to move up
Now I'm in the coupe plush, V10 with the roof up
Sizzurp in the hand got me juiced up
Let the AK loosen 'em up, he ain't wanna ride
Paramedic scooping 'em up, he ain't wanna die
I don't lie, nigga, I'm real, try to come at me hard
You gon' witness more steel than the penitentiary yard
You better drop that top (Uh)
When it's ninety degrees and you in South Beach riding the breeze
You better drop that top (Uh)
If you riding with keys, you better slow it down, riding with ease
Better drop that top (Uh)
If you riding the five and your bitch is on the passenger side
Better drop that top (Uh)
When it's ninety degrees and you on 8th Ave riding the breeze
No tats on the belly or the chest
I'm back, Boss Don Biggavelli in the flesh (Yeah)
Me and Blaze in front of the telly in the Lex'
Kevlar protecting the belly, not the neck (Nah)
Nigga, I'm poppin', my nigga, we gettin' plenty
Hit you with the semi
I got the hood in a frenzy 'til the police come and get me
Make you lazy from the piffy, baby, don't try to trick me
You ain't sippin', bitches, you ain't gettin' none of the sticky
They thinking the boy cheap (Uh)
Word on the street is they think that the boy heat
How he in position to take off on a mission?
And he fresh from the prison
Half the chain gleam gold and the rest of it glistens
It's like I just left out the kitchen (Uh)
Mixing up the stuff, spent the summer in Miami, where the bitches love to fuck
The hood love me, they give it up (Uh-huh), do it for the kids
I'm a ex-con, but they look up to me like I'm Big
You better drop that top
When it's ninety degrees and you in South Beach riding the breeze
You better drop that top (Uh)
If you riding with keys, you better slow it down riding with ease
Better drop that top (Uh)
If you riding the five and your bitch is on the passenger side
Better drop that top (Uh)
When it's ninety degrees and you on 8th Ave riding the breeze
They say I remind them of Pac in this prime
Pop a nigga dead at the drop of a dime (Yeah)
Top down, in the drop with the nine
Knowing if I get caught, they gon' have me sitting in court, copping out to a dime
I don't need that, roll the piff, nigga, lean back
Chewing past food, don't steam that
Damn, Biggavelli, you was the shit, you was hot in the green Ac'
Max, say he gon' do somethin', he really mean that
40-Cal, hittin' your gut, pushing your spleen back (Back)
Told you motherfuckers I was a Don (Told you)
Told you motherfuckers I was the one (Told you)
You could catch me in the drop and I always got the gun
You better drop that top (Uh)
When it's ninety degrees and you in South Beach riding the breeze
You better drop that top (Uh)
If you riding with keys, you better slow it down riding with ease
Better drop that top (Uh)
If you riding the five and your bitch is on the passenger side
Better drop that top (Uh)
When it's ninety degrees and you on 8th Ave riding the breeze
You better drop that top (Uh)
When it's ninety degrees and you in South Beach riding the breeze
You better drop that top (Uh)
If you riding with keys, you better slow it down riding with ease
Better drop that top (Uh)
If you riding the five and your bitch is on the passenger side
Better drop that top (Uh)
When it's ninety degrees and you on 8th Ave riding the breeze
Better drop that top (Uh)
Rest in peace to the true soldiers, man
Notorious Frank White a.k.a. Biggie Smalls
Tupac Shakur a.k.a. Makavel
It's your boy resurrected, nigga
Biggavelli in the flesh
Big, Jigga, Pac, all rolled in one Harlem legend
Gotta love it, uh
Dipset money for you niggas
It's that new sound, oww

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