"Who Styled Ya" lyrics

From now on let's just keep everything
Yup, Spitta
Welcome To The Winner's Circle, nigga
Fly nigga

Thou shall not front on real shit
Or he'll face a thousand deaths from this the spit vicious
I go hard like concrete floors
Make bitches legs open like Lambo doors, up, out
Nigga rich the first season BBC, I'm Mr. Chow
My ghetto chick ordering food she can't pronounce, uh
Eat in mama, let it stick to your ribs
But no pics, tell your friends 'bout the shit that we did
'Cause I can't have no evidence of me hanging with other chicks
Floating around, wifey trying to fight me on some Springer shit
It's Curren$y or you can call me Mr. Clean kicks
My day job consists of business first
Then video games, bong hits, and pulling skirts
Vacationing, month long trips, scamper the earth
I'm trying to find what N.E.R.D. was in search of
Was it love? Not sure
But I know that your man Hot Spitta ain't one of those niggas who
Don't know how to dress so they swagger jack, Jigga
Wait to see him on stage with it then they internet shopping till they get it, huh
I saw the same thing happen to me
Niggas laughed at my steez, now they're wearing DC's
Fashion misfits, I'm fashion gifted
You niggas Boo-boo, find Yogi, crash a picnic
Spitta

Yeah (Yeah)