Six O'Clock, Vol. 1

[Hook 1: Deuce Poppi]
How could a thug like me get wit a girl like you
Tell me what should I do - to get a girl like you

[Hook 2: Trina]
How could a girl like me get wit a thug like you
Tell me what should I do - to get a thug like you

[Verse 1: Trina]
I'm a first class chick wit a platinum voice
See me in Bal Harbor in a platinum Porsche
I'ma stay that rich chick - never broke fa sho
You want to send for me - baby charter the G4
That's the Leer Jet - that's how you break me off
Touchin in the cockpit while we takin off
You got me ridin in yellow Ferrari's and Harley's
Icey Bagari's, midnight manage's
"Take it to the House" - let me stretch you out
Lock you in my bedroom - I never let you out
I got you loose on X, get your mind rollin
Handcuffed to the headboard, blindfolded
wit the candles lit - we gettin scandalous
The Maridia Suites - In Los Angeles
I'm the +Baddest Chick+ - wit that bump and grind
And I know just what it take for me to make you mine

[Hook 1: Deuce Poppi]
How could a thug like me get wit a girl like you
Tell me what should I do - to get a girl like you

[Hook 2: Trina]
How could a girl like me get wit a thug like you
Tell me what should I do - to get a thug like you

[Verse 2: Deuce Poppi]
Yea, yea, yea
You a bad lil summin - ain't'cha?!
20 karat tennis bracelet 'round ya ankle
I got the chick like you - wit a lotta loot
Body cute enough disguise that body suit - just me and you
Round trip to Vegas and back
Pop Cris' - shoot dice - and make us a stack
You can drive the rest, now give a thug a try
I put you in that brand new Benz bucky eye
I ain't trickin' baby girl but I break bread
You get the "Keys to the Range" like Jagged Edge
I want to lay this pipe till ya half dead
I'll cut ya hard enough to break ya brass bed
I want to teach ya everything that a thug learned
Doggystyle on the floor wit the rug burns
Lil' Momma if ya scurred, then go to church scared
Cause I'ma hit that thang harder than Jevon Kearse
Wha wha?!

[Hook 1: Deuce Poppi]
How could a thug like me get wit a girl like you
Tell me what should I do - to get a girl like you

[Hook 2: Trina]
How could a girl like me get wit a thug like you
Tell me what should I do - to get a thug like you

[Verse 3: Deuce Poppi]
Yea, yea, yea, yea, yea, yea, yea
Lil' Momma you finger lickin, like Roscoe's Chicken
Wussup wit this stitchin - that midnight trickin?
Yo body, I want to ride like a Ducati
Like Kawasaki, mami don't get 'ocki
Plus I'm thick stocky and my wrist rocky
Just get on top me till that oochie get sloppy
Mirrors on the ceiling, look up, you can watch me
When you feel that nut comin, scream (Deuce Poppi!!)

[Trina]
Best believe - playboy when I lay witcha
I got "69 Ways" to play witcha
I'm a rich chick - I don't need ya bread
All I need is yo head 'tween my legs
Tell yo girlfriend you comin' home late tonight
You straight the night - I'mma get this thang actin' right
Admit it - I'm the best that ever did it
Anytime - any place - you know a chick wit it

[Hook 1: Deuce Poppi]
How could a thug like me get wit a girl like you
Tell me what should I do - to get a girl like you

[Hook 2: Trina]
How could a girl like me get wit a thug like you
Tell me what should I do - to get a thug like you
(2x's)

[* People talking in the background *]
[Ludacris talking]
Yeah, they never seen that shit comin'
Greg Street and Ludacris, Georgia to Texas
All over why'all ass
Dirty South nigga, check it

[Ludacris]
Now I'm an honest ho and all my hoes is honest
Luda make you brace yourself like orthodontist
I'm hooked on chronic and Smirnoff twist
But know ass in spandex is a turn-off bitch
It's not right like chapped lips if you givin' some mouth
Niggas want me on a song so I give em' the South
Thirty a verse, cars just for sixteen bars
And that's before I did this, so it probably went up
Eighty thousand dollar bonds, I ain't givin' a fuck
Cause that's change in my pocket, 45 I cock it
Click before I spit then it's time to scram
Bought a Cutlass on dubs, colored candy yams
And that's bowling ball paint so I roll the lane
Keep a poker face bitch and I fold the game
On a come up, get done up and it's time to creep
Freestyle motherfucker, nightmare on Greg Street

[Intro: Cee-Lo]
It's 6 O'clock, it's volume 1
Yeah, Greg Street's mixtape

[Verse One: Boondox]
Uh uh
I came up in the hood infested with teenage hustlers
Street grinders, paper chasin scrapin busters
By keepin dust up noses and caine homes; pipes and cans
So they want they ride candy painted just like the man
That Veta tryin not to bite his hand
But they need em to keep em life from they stand
Every night praying for praying go as far as the ceiling
Got me feel like I'm (cursed) from this heart that I'm dealing
And all this liquor hoeing brother and goose-neckin
That I do but I don't want to got me losing blessings
GOD said he'll take the next two steps if I take the first (I did)
But in it to pick and sellin the spur
From under my feet, lost faith and jump in the street
Back to serve a rocks dying to the chrome in the heat
And running with G's that take it to the block with 'em
Tellin me along with my greens up like pot nickel

[Chorus: Cee-Lo]
Well, all I know
That I'd been down this road before
It ain't the first time, won't be the last
I gotta slow down cause I'm living too fast
It's time to admit I need some help
Still living with my momma, can't feed myself
Life ain't about who straight, who real, who fake, and who gay
It's about who pray

[Verse Two: Cee-Lo]
You can clock my consistent and endless
Efforts up uplift me
Trees and branches catch draft
When I'm choppin down a path-
To walk down, actually don't even know how talk sound
I'm trying to stop the next step they drawing the chalk round
Matter-of-factually, I'll stand alone with no entourage to back me
GOD is my every existence; exhalation, exactly
I'll pimp prophets so profounding labels don't like contract me
I'm one of a kind; they gotta find a satellite to contact me
Let us bow, I thank the Almighty GOD for right now
For the strictor, smile through the tribulation and trial
For sparing me when the devil was daring me
And scaring me, synonymous for preparing me
And to my family- the Dungeon Family
And ya'll family-- we all family
And to me health and home and my son Keith Stun
My tongue is my gun, revolutions already begun
(Whaa)

[Chorus: Cee-Lo]
Well, all I know
That I'd been down this road before
It ain't the first time, won't be the last
I gotta slow down cause I'm living too fast
It's time to admit I need some help
Still living with my momma, can't feed myself
Life ain't about who straight, who real, who fake, and who gay
It's about who pray

[Verse Three: Kalage]
All I know is charge cards, cars, and clothes
Maan, it's all for sure
And could go and when it's gone- (you alone)
Runnin up yo cell phone callin GOD for hope
And who to say that day ain't all for close
And if you ballin playa, it's only because GOD's your coach
And it don't bout the lies you hold, laws you broke
Thangs ya drink, dank and cigars you smoke
HE gonna forgive and that's you; now don't get me wrong
I like LL, but GOD da G.O.A.T'
HE da greatest of all time, if I'm lying I'm blind
Can I get a Amen (Amen brother)
But we got to stop, we got to stop doin dirt
Coming to Church with a devil tucked in your purse
Sittin some leather from Atlanta, came up finish the prayer
Worried about sister mom's and hair
All along worried bout what sister mom gonna wear
This ya boy or should they ride the martyr there
It don't matter at least that's the moral there
In Sunday service with a Bible lie defer the South
But GOD bless her, we here to thank GOD (hmmmm ahhh)
And that's the step inside Holy Church thinkin
I said step inside his Holy Church thinkin
We all God's Property, and not just Kirk Franklin

[Chorus: Cee-Lo]
Well, all I know
That I'd been down this road before
It ain't the first time, won't be the last
I gotta slow down cause I'm living too fast
It's time to admit I need some help
Still living with my momma, can't feed myself
Life ain't about who straight, who real, who fake, and who gay
It's about who pray

[T.I. and studio engineers interlude convo]

[Verse Four: T.I.]
Open my eyes, see the sunrise
Talkin about memories of G's got my tongue tied
Put out some Henn for my friend, why the good die?
But til the end, I'm in the wind where the slug fly
Pray for my sins, I hope I find Heaven close to me
Try to be godly but these haters provokin me
Pull the shotty want them dead is what my heart say
My hard head make me learn shit the hard way
Dodging the fedz ain't the easy way to live, care
But nigga do it everyday to make a meal stack
Your phone tapped, under surveillance, secretly indicted
Being watched daily, livin shady just to drive a Merdede
And fucking ladies, who making babies used against you
Gettin the ?? be the main nigga you be a friend too
How can begin to explain the pain
Can you stay in the rain
Used to be a simple thing, but the game done changed
Now slanging caine is a lifestyle
Risking your freedom just to ball for a short while
Gettin buckwild on the street up on Westside
Downtown Atlanta, while we ride some of the best die
From cocking hammers of these Tec-9s and .45s
Excuse my grammar; but it's fucked up how time fly
It seem like yesterday we play until our days was nights
And yesterday, I just put flowers at his gravesite and that ain't right

[Outro: Kalage]
All I know
Is I'd been down this road before
This ain't the first time, won't be the last
I gotta slow down cause I'm living too fast
It's time to admit I need some help
Still living with my momma, can't feed myself
Life ain't about who straight, who real, who fake, and who gay
It's about who pray