"All Out on My Own" as written by Hamilton Frederick Bohannon, Shyheim Franklin and Arby Quinn....
Yo, what the deal?
Criminals, what up?
We're not born we're created
From the streets
And this goes out to all my thugs, criminals, ballers, hustlers
Big up to self, Big up to self
Get why?all weight up
No diggity, No doubt
G.P. Wu, Yo drop my shit right now

I gotta get my weight up
Fuck eight balls I'm flippin kilos
Did dirt so now I lay low from street foes
Broke niggas and bitches want to take what I got
Tell the jakes about my spots
They mad 'cause I make a lot
From Monday through Sunday I see about a million
Run with thugs that's down for killin, civilians
I'm thug related, pack nuff heat, they call me fire
Niggas fear my verbal technique 'cause I'm Kaiser
So say I represent the ghetto worldwide
Bust techs, puff lye
From A to Z's Doe or Die
Fuck around and get lifted off this Earth
Take my word for what it's worth
I put that on the turf

[Chorus: x2]
I'm all out on my own, I'm goin out son
I'm all out on my own, I'm goin out (dun)
I'm all out on my own, I'm goin out
(Like Patty LaBelle said I'm out on my own)

I'm all out on my own like Al Capone
'Cause niggas want my dome, so I pack a 4 lb. chrome
Stash it near my nuts in the front
But keep it in arm distance 'cause I'm gonna have to bust
The first victim that comes too close to me and shit
My clips packed up thick legit and victed
To go to war at any given time
I gotta protect me and mine
Before the damn flat line
I'm still young but I'm growin up mad fast
Treated like trash and dumped out on my ass
No one understands me but me
Nobody cares about how I feel but me
So what I gotta do is do for me
I wonder how that be goin all out for me
I got mad problems but I try to deal wit em
I wish that I could fight em
And shoot the fear one wit em
But the devil keeps on hawkin me
My soul he wantin G
But that shit I can't see

[Chorus: x2]

I had many dreams of being a star in the NBA
But they got thrown away when I saw them slingin yay
I put the ball down, picked the ounce up, then I read up
Now I'm 200 G's up and on my uptown
To meet up with these big druglords from Cuba
I don't trust em like a chickenhead so I'm bring the luger
And my 19-9-6 shot beamer
Flying on the West Side highway, that's when I seen her
Van full of jiggy
Oh now they want to get me
At full pushin 80 max while I'm hittin the buck 50
Niggas know Dig me blazin the la-la
The weed keep me zoned word to Taiwana
K-basa baby, you know who loves you girl
Young wild thugs we rule the world

[Chorus: x2]

Yea, Uh, I'd like to give a mad big up
(No doubt, represent)
Respect to the 2 Cent click
Be I, my man Ty motha fuckin D
(What up Ski?)
One time, Squig, word up, Vin-cent
Redman, Rubba-Rubba-Rubbabandz
Hah hah, and it, and it don't stop


Lyrics submitted by SongMeanings

"All Out on My Own" as written by Shyheim Franklin Hamilton Frederick Bohannon

Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, BMG RIGHTS MANAGEMENT US, LLC

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