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Trouble seems to catch a motherfucker with his cards down |
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Gotta keep my drawers up, shit's gettin hard now |
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These motherfuckin cops be plantin shit on these niggas |
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Simply because these niggas got bank accounts that's bigger |
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I just can't get no peace from you motherfuckin rollers |
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Everytime I pull my Benz-o out, you pull me over |
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I'm sick of motherfuckers who be jocking Whitey's coattails |
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Blacker than a motherfucker, sweat me 'bout my dope-sales |
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Niggas just take your cut and get your ass up out my face |
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The only thing you probably get from me is a cock-sucking pistol case |
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Unless you plan on plantin a lil' somethin in my shit |
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Just because you ain't got shit, bitch! |
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Give em a badge and a trigger and that makes em figure |
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That they can fuck with a million dollar nigga |
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They got you mixed up, fixed up at the Segas, shookin Indo |
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Gettin fucked up in the gank-hole |
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The only way you'll whip that motherfucker is when you whip that motherfucker |
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And we choke the motherfucker (Man, fuck that motherfucker!) |
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So when you hear my song and wanna get it on |
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You better come prepared motherfucker, you dyin wit'cha boots on |
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[Chorus] |
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(Put ya foot in my shoe, and let me try on your boots) |
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Dyin wit'cha boots on |
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(Put ya foot in my shoe, and let me try on your boots) |
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Yeah |
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[Interlude: prison guard talking to inmate] |
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Guard: Do you know how many years you're facing inside? |
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25 to life and that's on the real |
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So you better snitch on your partner |
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Inmate: Fuck that! It was Brad Dawg, I ain't goin out by myself |
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[Scarface] |
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Niggas gettin caught, doin time, so they snitchin |
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They pickin niggas up on a funky ass suspicion |
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We'll be goin down for some questioning we think |
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And end up gettin hit with the fuckin kitchen sink |
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Racketeer and laundering, Kingpin wondering |
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If they got some unsolved murders, then give him some of them |
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Just because we're niggas and they figure we're no smarter |
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We'll sell each other out, and start rattin' on our partners |
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They start bringin up shit that happened back in '85 |
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And then comes the largest jury, bitch, they fuckin time! |
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You might as well play the state cause you gon' do day for day |
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And sellin out your homeboys ain't the shit |
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Cos y'all gonna have to die in this bitch, bitch! |
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Lobbin wit'cha white suits on |
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And dyin wit'cha motherfuckin boots on |
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(Put ya foot in my shoe, and let me try on your boots) |
