Tryin' To Get A Buck - B-Legit, B-Legit featuring Kaveo

What’s up, B?

Aw, it ain’t shit;

muthafuckin' sufferin', still takin' Bufferin

What’s up wit' you, mayne?

Man, I’m tryna get a hold of some of that shit, man

When it’s gon' be cool?

Well, it’s like this, dude, I’m finna get at potna, right

Right

And uh, soon as I touch down on something, man, I’ll give you a call

Alright, man, you get back, give me a jingle or something, man

Alright

Alright

It takes three tanks from here to Burbank

So let me get to dank and gas up, and put the cash up

Call a Mexican and let him know I’m on my way

Meet me 60 miles north of L. A

By the Grapevine, bring about nine or 10, mate

Straight Peruvian plates

So I can shake on and put the bake on a muthafucka

Take on and put the make on the muthafucka

Penitentiary chance, yeah, I know that’s true

But on the first, my muthafuckin' rent is due

And my landlord ain’t cuttin' back—nigga, fuck some slack

‘Bout a second, shit, he’s at that

And I feel like puttin' my 9 in his nose

I’m hard on the grind and his punk ass knows

That I be stressin', reachin' for my Smith and Wesson

About to teach his punk ass a little lesson

About fuckin' with a Black

Always on my back to scratch, but nigga, you could suck gat

‘Cause I’ve been tryin', damn near dyin' when I’m tearing shit up

Tryin' to get a buck

Shit, tryna get this ol' shit—yo, what up, mayne

You know what I’m sayin'

I know I got a financial disorder

But now I’m tryna like get this ol' shit together, mayne

If I can’t get stack now, I’ll never stack

Gotta keep my revenues up to par

And you got to know, 40 Water’s in the house

And I got my boy B-Legit with me

And he’s on this muthafuckin' Savage tip

Check game

By 12 A.M., I’m out the thighs

It’s time to take a ride down South I-5

And the dank got a nigga on paranoid

One false move and I could be destroyed

So I avoids and use a decoy

You see, my muthafuckin' driver, he’s a white boy

Six deep in the duty, B-dub packin' fully

M-11 mag with three comrades

Poppin', doin' 60, using cruise control

You gotta «Outsmart the Po-Po's»

You know what I mean, ‘cause it’s a daily routine

Arrived at the spot about 5:19

I walks inside, I test both sides

If everything’s tight, we’ll be back by night

Counted up the cash, loaded up the truck, and niggas got the fuck

Tryin' to get a fuck

Dead right, game tight

Can’t be slippin' in this vicious ass gidname, junior

Your whole program’ll be ruined

That’s why you gotta like stick to the symptoms of the situation

Lettin' out frustration like a muthafucka

Tryna get over on these sneaky ass devils

Can’t be riding no old raggedy ass go-cart, though, you know

You know that little saying, though, man

You gotta outsmart them muthafuckin' Panopo’s, you know

The trip back, niggas tac, and some tired

Truck smokin' like a muthafuckin' forest fire

And the only thing on my mind is the grind

And I gotta get paid off all nine

Called E and let him know that it’s cool now

But not a word ‘til a muthafucka touch down

Call baby, and maybe let her know, right

That snow white and her friends’ll be spending the night

Game tight, but stuck at a standstill

I’ll call you back when a nigga get to Danville

Dropped my phone, down a flask, then I heard a blast

Got my gat off the floor and we at po

Straight tore ‘cause a nigga didn’t recognize

We was getting trailed by a bird in the sky

Hit the door and we was eastbound

About a hundred miles from the muthafuckin' V-town

Hittin' fences in the hood like they was mine

First went the ‘gnac, and then with the 9

It took time but them muthafuckas caught up

And now I’m stuck like Chuck, for tryin' to get a buck