Lyrics Doe B – Half Time

DJ Scream:
As long as DJ Scream right here
As long as Bigga Rankin right here
Frank White

Doe B:
Hey
I’m talkin’ half time
H-Town, half a brick shit
Remix, in the drought
Get you rich shit
Who got it? They got it, we yellin’
That hit a lick shit
Show a monkey ass nigga
How a banana splits shit
Fifty rounds, hundred rounds
That’s that drum shit
Band practice
Fuck around and get your dome hit
By starin’ at me
I’m paranoid like I’m on it
Sold so many bricks, I fuck around
And make your home flip
Real estate
Fuck where you’re from, I’m from a realer state
Fish fillet, fish scale
Boy, that’s killer yay
Weigh your white
Then pull up on you with a pillowcase

Hey, ya’ll niggas gettin’ money out there or what nigga?
(Niggas not gettin’ no money, man)
Huh? Let me know somethin’, boy
(I don’t believe these niggas, brah)
Hey, I see you niggas
(Real talk!)
Hahaha! You seem on shit for real though, nigga (for real!)
On Ma!

I’m talkin’ Circle K
Been straight, nigga Court Street
Irene, sour Dees, nigga O.G
Shop with me
All the real niggas know me
They fuck with me
Ask about me, boy I got the streets
Stupid clientele got my name ringin’ bells
Got a Cali plug for real
Say the word, he’s breakin’ bails
I got birds, I got squares
Pull up on ya with some shit
Get caught with this, you gettin’ an L
If you’re scared, say you’re scared
Every night I say my prayers
Cross my heart, hope they don’t tell
If you catch the wrong cell
You might end up in a cell
Cocaine paraphernal’
Get your ass some long years
Bitch niggas never graduated
Get more money than a mil

Bitch it’s trap life!
What you niggas know about it?
Yea, act like it
These niggas ain’t ’bout no violence
Talkin’ ’bout them killers
These niggas ain’t catchin’ no bodies
Boy, you get your issue
I ain’t talkin’ magazines either
A hundred pages
I ain’t talkin’ magazines neither
That AK shit
Everything we tote illegal
That mayday shit
Let’s call it quits, these niggas evil
Cold turkey
I’ll turn this bitch to Thanksgiving
Back with no mercy
Hot shit straight out the kitchen
Let it burn like Hershel
And that choppa got rhythm
It don’t skip a beat
You laid up in a hospital
‘Till your shit go bee-eee-p

Fuck nigga, trick or treat!
In your house with the mask
Like it’s time to eat
Come on hurry with them bags
My lil’ niggas starvin’
And they’re preyin’ on a body
With no holy water
God damn, these niggas violent (shit!)

Yea
Come up off that, my nigga
(Let me get that)
We have to take what’s ours, nigga (huh?)
So whoever says they’ve got the street (who got the streets, nigga?)
You know what I mean?
You need that, right now, A.S.A.P., nigga (pronto!)
See me on television getting’ money, nigga

This shit right here (haha!)
They ain’t gon’ like this shit
(On my life?), nigga
Hey!