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Dolla Boy

Genres: Hip-Hop

Who, Not Me Lyrics - Dolla Boy

Small World, Small World, Small World, Small World 

No way, no how, get 'em like blaow, blaow, blaow kapaow 

Yeah, you ever hear somebody sayin' something 

And you think they talkin? 'bout you, you not quite sho' 

 

You know I'm sayin'? But it ain't no way they talking 'bout you 

Introducing the new members of disturbing tha peace, small world 

From Norfolk, Dolla Boi from Playaz Circle, here we go, what? 

 

Who the fuck you talking to? 

Not me, couldn't be me, naw not me 

Who the fuck you talking to? 

Not me, couldn't be me, naw not me 

 

Who the fuck you talking to? 

Not me, couldn't be me, naw not me 

Who the fuck you talking to? 

Not me, couldn't be me, naw not me 

 

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Three, two, one, what's begun is the start but bitch we be saying 

We, we just getting started it since one, y'all been monitoring 

Pondering 'bout it, how 'bout I pull it out and kapaow? 

I'll heat 'em up out his mouth with it, big Small World 

 

Norfolik is the gang, extended clip in the jeans 

Put 'em in a box like Bisquick, I'm a laker wit clips 

Get 'em in the lake wit clips, truth is ya a clipper with clips 

Ain't cha bitch, I'm bout my loot and dollars, I'll shot you 

 

For looting dollars but you lootless and dollarless, fuck it 

I shot for Luda and Dolla, I crash parties, blast with proposed toast 

I'm a have a problem like scrap blat with me short of hoes 

 

One for ya damn lips or there be mixture of blood and dandruff 

If you don't get my damn drift, creep to ya grave and leak DT piss 

This is yo highness at his less tempered, keep it pimpin' and watch 

 

Who the fuck you talking to? 

Not me, couldn't be me, naw not me 

Who the fuck you talking to? 

Not me, couldn't be me, naw not me 

 

Photos 

 

Who the fuck you talking to? 

Not me, couldn't be me, naw not me 

Who the fuck you talking to? 

Not me, couldn't be me, naw not me 

 

I been having a bad day, the same ol' shit, we don't give a fuck 

About who you is, the same ol' clique, and the same ol' biz 

The same ol flip, wit the same ol whip, the same 4-4, with 

The same ol' clip, half the bullets gone, the otha half you can get 

 

Bitch, R.I.P. Rick James, I'm rich bitch, you talkin' to much 

Nigga, you a snitch bitch and we don't do it like that 

We do three quarter drops and we bring a brick back, black 

Don't act get ya whole trap splat, ack, unload 'em, reload 'em 

 

We back black and when dem gats letting off, red dots loud noises 

Like planes taking off, Dolla Boi, I got the game in a cross 

Make me bang at cha boss, for dem things coming soft, nigga 

 

Who the fuck you talking to? 

Not me, couldn't be me, naw not me 

Who the fuck you talking to? 

Not me, couldn't be me, naw not me 

 

Who the fuck you talking to? 

Not me, couldn't be me, naw not me 

Who the fuck you talking to? 

Not me, couldn't be me, naw not me 

 

Oh, oh, oh, oh, now if a bad bitch wants dick, then it's dick 

I give her, Ludacris nigga, I stand and deliver, neva back down 

Won't shake nor shiver, fuck with me and get found 

In the Chattahoochee River, this seven inch shank will put a stop 

 

To his ticker, but shorties to the body make him drop much quicker 

Yeah, I appear to be a nice lil' nigga, fuck with anything I love 

I'm a stone cold killa, eating off of 'sace, versace 

Sleeping on Chinchilla, eight figga nigga, I'm a multi milla 

 

See me in the street, it can't get no realer, giving back to my hood 

With a pocket full of scrilla, my neighbors say', "My house can't 

Get no bigga", I do good ass bidness with a bad ass temper, please 

Tell ya bitch, stop playing with my zipper or I'll stick her, stick her 

 

Who the fuck you talking to? 

Not me, couldn't be me, naw not me 

Who the fuck you talking to? 

Not me, couldn't be me, naw not me 

 

Who the fuck you talking to? 

Not me, couldn't be me, naw not me 

Who the fuck you talking to? 

Not me, couldn't be me, naw not me 

Writer: , , , , , ,

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