Popa Chief – Livin' Proper lyrics

[Intro: ?]
Popa Chief, with the beat...
Popa Chief... Popa... Popa...
Popa... Popa...

[?]
We in the Pop' Chief, Burnt Bakery, I'm the grits
Them harmony shits, them harmony hits
That be bombing you kids, harmoning you nigs
You got a weak stomach, why you vomiting, pig?
Mr. Alcholic, now ya, Mr. Kneeled-Over-A-Toilet
I can't call it, you can't call it
You gots some problem, boy, you better solve it
I think you garbage, and you lost it
Your album's corny and your label endorsed it
Now they sorry, you double nothing
For Popa Chief, double oven
Bisquik Biscuits, keepin' them coming, like raw
Bitch, you get dissed quick for pushing my buttons
Think you tough? What, cousin, get rushed
Sucker punched in your face for fronting

[Chorus 2X: ?]
We livin' proper and niggas is making dollars
And can nothing stop us, we the wallets we in your pockets
All you women holla, we the hottest, all and proper
Burnt Biskut Product, if you want it, aiyo we got it, get it?

[Popa Chief]
The route I'm taking, when I huff and seen it
Ya'll stuck in traffic, when I say 'fuck you', I really mean it
Now push the button marked 'panic'
As long as there's gravity and hot ones coming out of Burnt Biskut Bakery
Ya'll happy? I'm happy
I'mma stay nappy, ya'll can call me Pops and Pappy
Swing and serve to this, puff a half a pound of herb to this
And Pop doing it, just don't get no better than this
When I bust, I don't miss, no limitations, no hesitations
I'm power moving, ya'll masturbating
And one big collaboration, check mating, total word domination
Fuck it, I just got tired of waiting
Gave up the bench and start busting
Yo, like Iverson, Popa Chief, can't stop it
I be the livest one in South Jersey, yo I'm working it

[Hook: Popa Chief]
Yes, ya'll, this is how it's going down
In the dirty side of South Jersey, come on
Yes, ya'll, this is how we get down
On the grimey side of South Jersey, come n
Yes, ya'll, this is how we get down
On the slimey side of South Jersey, come on
Yes, ya'll, this is how we get down
On the greasy side of South Jersey...

[Outro: Popa Chief]
Why, oh, why
Did you did you did you did you did you did you leave and
No way... glad ya'll came