歌曲 | Gang's All Here |
歌手 | Heltah Skeltah |
专辑 | Magnum Force (Int'l Only) (Explicit) |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
Aiyyo i been spittin this rap shit for too long | |
To let y'all heads get me hot under my collar through songs | |
And best don't get it twisted | |
My magnum force practice operation:lockdown | |
And don't you clowns ever forget it | |
The other half'll feel my brother's wrath, that we break through | |
And always been the type to take you there like ?warren staples? | |
Blow spots wit no glock the show stop when domes pop | |
You should of stayed your ass home bop, you got a flow--not | |
[illa noyz] | |
I set it off on a mission like the sentinel | |
Cuz i was sent to do, murder the crew sayin i'm merciful | |
I wrote a few, journals in my nocturnal state | |
Blaze like an inferno, watch niggas just cremate | |
Too late to run and turn to rev. run | |
Some blessin the section, givin them niggas quick trips to heaven | |
Straight murder wit the unheard-a, lyritifical | |
Beneficial, that you never pursure the issue | |
The ninth initial, thought as to rip the bits n kibbles | |
I kick ass, more than a little, my rhyme riddle | |
Your mind's a dead veg-e-table when i hit you | |
Doin like i should do, bringin noyz to my acquittal | |
[steele] | |
Wit no discrepency, i rip mc wit no referee | |
Devil tested me, can't let him get the best of me | |
Wit accuracy, i'll attack an mc | |
Spittin like i emptied the m-1 from the m-p | |
Wit no apology, unload on your property causing atrocity | |
At a rapid velocity, mental artillery, military anatomy | |
After you battle me call me your majesty for mastering | |
The art of fastening, grappling, locking down this rapping thing | |
Tackling the majority, bomb with authority | |
More than minority, s-t got seniority | |
Rhymin since knowledge and quality wit college degree | |
(kill out to all the enemy, we killin all a dem | |
Kill out to all the enemy, don't matter if it's enemy or friend) | |
[doc holiday] | |
Doc ain't nuttin but the truth, 100% when i get bent | |
It's possible that i'm mad, forget ? i'm blind, deaf, and mute | |
To all you shit poppers, put your money where your mouth at | |
I roll wit bank stoppers, five-foot reps who whip ass | |
Erases coppers, it's mandatory, that d-o-c stay shittin | |
Laws and lows to keep you hoes on my didick | |
My foes stay foes so all you jacks need to quit it | |
Doc shines, hot lines, and jackers come and get it | |
And one false move, i'm guaranteed to be acquitted | |
[lidu rock] | |
Aiyyo, we gang bangin, through the tri-state area | |
Act up, my mfc niggas'll have to bury ya | |
Ain't nuttin scarier, than a five-foot eight nigga | |
Holding the big toast, make yo chest piece shake | |
I cut niggas like class and glass from dirty bottles | |
Runnin through these streets high-speed at full throttle | |
Ghetto role models, so what the fuck y'all tellin me | |
Misdemeanor cats wit raps, wannabe felonies | |
Fuck sellin trees man, i smoke too much | |
I lay my raps, get my traps, then i roast the dutch | |
Y'all niggas boast too much, about the shit you got | |
I hope the money save that ass when the shit get hot | |
It's lidu rock | |
[rock] | |
Many think i ain't got it in me, cuz i'm plenty-friendly | |
It could be because i'm skinny | |
But i'll fuck you up like henny and remmy | |
?if any of trash?, we'll i'll scream "gimme" | |
To any who make it hard to get away like tim or penny | |
Semi-auto, wit a swift into your track, ?it cracks? | |
And creeps morse code, i'm sendin smoke signals | |
That's how my gats be | |
Tactics, i crack piece are phenomenal | |
Ask peeps, what kinda drama do the bummy jab wreak | |
He'll tell ya, the boy cause straight heltah skeltah | |
I got the block sweltering and hot like your biotch when i felt her | |
So don't fuck wit my head, got static i'm buckin you dead | |
I'll bend your body like craftmatic adjustable bed | |
Fuck what you said, for y'all i got nuttin but lead-o | |
And stop fuckin askin me why ruck cut his dreads | |
It's up in the air, we buckin from here, to where you rest at | |
In a jet black, expedition fishin to get some get back | |
(kill out to all our enemies, we killin all a dem | |
Kill out to all our enemies, no matter if it's enemy or friend) | |
[rustee jux] | |
My militant mind's impervious to submission | |
Maintain in the rank, glorious in this division | |
Killa cartel-n-mfc in collision | |
The scene could get bloody, two teams wit one mission | |
I stomps through the crack slums of mother medina | |
Push weed to stack funds for my mother dina | |
Rustee jux-man, brooklyn mercenary | |
Some say it's rap, some say it's legendary | |
The pack that run wit me, attack wit guns swiftly | |
My young legion niggas got smacked on one-fifty | |
Cold mashin, straight blastin, steady mobbin | |
I rose to large drug dealin from petty robbin | |
[supreme] | |
Well it's the five-eight, hands i'm holdin brothers for ransom | |
Operation generation down to the seeds of your grandson | |
And blow off like a handgun, hittin niggas at random | |
Damn son, got love for thugs singin my anthem | |
I amp them, spittin my raps spectacular | |
Forever clappin the rapper that's bitin like he dracula | |
You see what happens to all of these fake rhyme fashioners | |
I bring disaster to niggas thats claimin they done mastered the | |
Art, who's the next on my chart to mark | |
You know i swim wit the shark, why y'all niggas wanna start | |
Big gram and knee low, stay on the d-low | |
Rollin black in the back of the fat ex-p-o | |
[tek] | |
Well it's the lazy-eye criminal, baby nines the minimum | |
In the gat cabin, tek we make it happen | |
You just rappin, bitch niggas get bitch smacked when | |
You start yappin, get your shine snatched for flashin | |
Straight extorted, like an irs audit | |
You never gonna bust that gun, so why you bought it? | |
See you came home frolic, but you show fake love | |
Like the feds try to get close and lay down bugs | |
Try to skate but got schemed on, you had to lay | |
Didn't know niggas got desert e's and pk's | |
[starang] | |
Me and my crew ride up and down st. james like a pack of great danes | |
Ain't shit changed, see y'all niggas take your gold frames | |
Spit in your face and i'm a have to smack flames | |
Out your ass for tryin to laugh and plus play games (word up) | |
We ain't connecticut, ain't even sweatin it | |
Pack up your bags bitch, come wit some better shit | |
Son them niggas probably home right now, for real regretting it | |
I don't want to be y'all, when we see y'all i'm settin it | |
Niggas on my dick so much i brought a saddle | |
We can take it to the streets(word up word up), bring your heat, battle | |
For your seven-forty beamer, wit your shorty kima in it | |
If you platinum you can drive me through manhattan while i hit it | |
Everywhere i go, i let em know starang's the shit | |
Over three-hundred thousand fans and ain't never had a hit | |
William h. is the name, mfc's the click | |
Y'all niggas takin us out?, y'all smokin the shit | |
(retreat retreat, all pussy boys, retreat magnum force come to take over | |
Retreat, retreat, all pussy boys, retreat magnum force come to take over) | |
[ruck] | |
Sean p., you better recognize, i be wreckin guys | |
Fuckin cockroaches still breathin up your pesticides | |
Like d-con, see sean be on some shit from day one | |
Spray guns at funny style niggas who actin gay son | |
Ruck made the paper, you could turn to page one | |
Butt-fuckin your chick wit a mothafuckin gauge son | |
Who said that? ruck said wack shit, aiyyo dead that | |
For the headcrack, leave your face lumpy like craig mack | |
I read that, niggas want beef aiyyo so get back | |
?happen in? person cuz i'm hurtin niggas who said that | |
You fuckin wet back, smack you wit the fuck med's pack | |
Then have sex at, the same place i park my lex at | |
[buckshot] | |
The last black gene, green socks | |
Serve the fans quick like servin fiend rock | |
Understand the scene is locked, when you dead bolt | |
Hit em in the throat, ride em like the jet black colt | |
Through the jungle, it's another rumble when i set it so free | |
And flee from his body back to the ogc | |
I never heard of that nigga, in the first place | |
I hit him in the worst place, hid the waste | |
Need a replacement killa, hustle dope shit so i'm a drug dealer | |
So for real-a, on point wit the nine mill-a | |
Straight give a nigga guillotine shit | |
Heads come off the ?lean? wit one stroke | |
Two tokes from the mack tilly | |
Give a mothafucker two to the belly | |
Stop, look and acting like the shot from your ass whippin | |
Nigga, why you trippin, don't start slippin now | |
Fool keep flippin | |
[rock] | |
It's not over, it's not over, oh oh | |
[louieville sluggah] | |
Yo it was on to the next phase | |
Spit ink on a page, hostile rage | |
No sugar and sour like lemmonade | |
Bing came to me in a dream he said "come clean" | |
So i scalped and praise, i'm on my way | |
Gat and pick straight out the gate | |
When i see yo say "you back up on your duty ?" | |
Yo my mouth spittin arson, new shit is startin | |
But ain't shit changed, you know your range, beg your pardon | |
Starv like marv, i'm on the job | |
First rob and ?slug? mothafuckers licked the knob | |
Be like that, when i clap back time | |
I feel it deeply, for my niggas i left behind | |
I rep for mine, here son feel the shine | |
Can't say no names, cuz all my niggas is on my mind | |
Yo i'm all about me sonee, hand me money | |
Ja ja, and bring yo ass here to poppa | |
[talking and threats to the end] |
Aiyyo i been spittin this rap shit for too long | |
To let y' all heads get me hot under my collar through songs | |
And best don' t get it twisted | |
My magnum force practice operation: lockdown | |
And don' t you clowns ever forget it | |
The other half' ll feel my brother' s wrath, that we break through | |
And always been the type to take you there like ? warren staples? | |
Blow spots wit no glock the show stop when domes pop | |
You should of stayed your ass home bop, you got a flownot | |
illa noyz | |
I set it off on a mission like the sentinel | |
Cuz i was sent to do, murder the crew sayin i' m merciful | |
I wrote a few, journals in my nocturnal state | |
Blaze like an inferno, watch niggas just cremate | |
Too late to run and turn to rev. run | |
Some blessin the section, givin them niggas quick trips to heaven | |
Straight murder wit the unhearda, lyritifical | |
Beneficial, that you never pursure the issue | |
The ninth initial, thought as to rip the bits n kibbles | |
I kick ass, more than a little, my rhyme riddle | |
Your mind' s a dead vegetable when i hit you | |
Doin like i should do, bringin noyz to my acquittal | |
steele | |
Wit no discrepency, i rip mc wit no referee | |
Devil tested me, can' t let him get the best of me | |
Wit accuracy, i' ll attack an mc | |
Spittin like i emptied the m1 from the mp | |
Wit no apology, unload on your property causing atrocity | |
At a rapid velocity, mental artillery, military anatomy | |
After you battle me call me your majesty for mastering | |
The art of fastening, grappling, locking down this rapping thing | |
Tackling the majority, bomb with authority | |
More than minority, st got seniority | |
Rhymin since knowledge and quality wit college degree | |
kill out to all the enemy, we killin all a dem | |
Kill out to all the enemy, don' t matter if it' s enemy or friend | |
doc holiday | |
Doc ain' t nuttin but the truth, 100 when i get bent | |
It' s possible that i' m mad, forget ? i' m blind, deaf, and mute | |
To all you shit poppers, put your money where your mouth at | |
I roll wit bank stoppers, fivefoot reps who whip ass | |
Erases coppers, it' s mandatory, that doc stay shittin | |
Laws and lows to keep you hoes on my didick | |
My foes stay foes so all you jacks need to quit it | |
Doc shines, hot lines, and jackers come and get it | |
And one false move, i' m guaranteed to be acquitted | |
lidu rock | |
Aiyyo, we gang bangin, through the tristate area | |
Act up, my mfc niggas' ll have to bury ya | |
Ain' t nuttin scarier, than a fivefoot eight nigga | |
Holding the big toast, make yo chest piece shake | |
I cut niggas like class and glass from dirty bottles | |
Runnin through these streets highspeed at full throttle | |
Ghetto role models, so what the fuck y' all tellin me | |
Misdemeanor cats wit raps, wannabe felonies | |
Fuck sellin trees man, i smoke too much | |
I lay my raps, get my traps, then i roast the dutch | |
Y' all niggas boast too much, about the shit you got | |
I hope the money save that ass when the shit get hot | |
It' s lidu rock | |
rock | |
Many think i ain' t got it in me, cuz i' m plentyfriendly | |
It could be because i' m skinny | |
But i' ll fuck you up like henny and remmy | |
? if any of trash?, we' ll i' ll scream " gimme" | |
To any who make it hard to get away like tim or penny | |
Semiauto, wit a swift into your track, ? it cracks? | |
And creeps morse code, i' m sendin smoke signals | |
That' s how my gats be | |
Tactics, i crack piece are phenomenal | |
Ask peeps, what kinda drama do the bummy jab wreak | |
He' ll tell ya, the boy cause straight heltah skeltah | |
I got the block sweltering and hot like your biotch when i felt her | |
So don' t fuck wit my head, got static i' m buckin you dead | |
I' ll bend your body like craftmatic adjustable bed | |
Fuck what you said, for y' all i got nuttin but leado | |
And stop fuckin askin me why ruck cut his dreads | |
It' s up in the air, we buckin from here, to where you rest at | |
In a jet black, expedition fishin to get some get back | |
kill out to all our enemies, we killin all a dem | |
Kill out to all our enemies, no matter if it' s enemy or friend | |
rustee jux | |
My militant mind' s impervious to submission | |
Maintain in the rank, glorious in this division | |
Killa cartelnmfc in collision | |
The scene could get bloody, two teams wit one mission | |
I stomps through the crack slums of mother medina | |
Push weed to stack funds for my mother dina | |
Rustee juxman, brooklyn mercenary | |
Some say it' s rap, some say it' s legendary | |
The pack that run wit me, attack wit guns swiftly | |
My young legion niggas got smacked on onefifty | |
Cold mashin, straight blastin, steady mobbin | |
I rose to large drug dealin from petty robbin | |
supreme | |
Well it' s the fiveeight, hands i' m holdin brothers for ransom | |
Operation generation down to the seeds of your grandson | |
And blow off like a handgun, hittin niggas at random | |
Damn son, got love for thugs singin my anthem | |
I amp them, spittin my raps spectacular | |
Forever clappin the rapper that' s bitin like he dracula | |
You see what happens to all of these fake rhyme fashioners | |
I bring disaster to niggas thats claimin they done mastered the | |
Art, who' s the next on my chart to mark | |
You know i swim wit the shark, why y' all niggas wanna start | |
Big gram and knee low, stay on the dlow | |
Rollin black in the back of the fat expo | |
tek | |
Well it' s the lazyeye criminal, baby nines the minimum | |
In the gat cabin, tek we make it happen | |
You just rappin, bitch niggas get bitch smacked when | |
You start yappin, get your shine snatched for flashin | |
Straight extorted, like an irs audit | |
You never gonna bust that gun, so why you bought it? | |
See you came home frolic, but you show fake love | |
Like the feds try to get close and lay down bugs | |
Try to skate but got schemed on, you had to lay | |
Didn' t know niggas got desert e' s and pk' s | |
starang | |
Me and my crew ride up and down st. james like a pack of great danes | |
Ain' t shit changed, see y' all niggas take your gold frames | |
Spit in your face and i' m a have to smack flames | |
Out your ass for tryin to laugh and plus play games word up | |
We ain' t connecticut, ain' t even sweatin it | |
Pack up your bags bitch, come wit some better shit | |
Son them niggas probably home right now, for real regretting it | |
I don' t want to be y' all, when we see y' all i' m settin it | |
Niggas on my dick so much i brought a saddle | |
We can take it to the streets word up word up, bring your heat, battle | |
For your sevenforty beamer, wit your shorty kima in it | |
If you platinum you can drive me through manhattan while i hit it | |
Everywhere i go, i let em know starang' s the shit | |
Over threehundred thousand fans and ain' t never had a hit | |
William h. is the name, mfc' s the click | |
Y' all niggas takin us out?, y' all smokin the shit | |
retreat retreat, all pussy boys, retreat magnum force come to take over | |
Retreat, retreat, all pussy boys, retreat magnum force come to take over | |
ruck | |
Sean p., you better recognize, i be wreckin guys | |
Fuckin cockroaches still breathin up your pesticides | |
Like dcon, see sean be on some shit from day one | |
Spray guns at funny style niggas who actin gay son | |
Ruck made the paper, you could turn to page one | |
Buttfuckin your chick wit a mothafuckin gauge son | |
Who said that? ruck said wack shit, aiyyo dead that | |
For the headcrack, leave your face lumpy like craig mack | |
I read that, niggas want beef aiyyo so get back | |
? happen in? person cuz i' m hurtin niggas who said that | |
You fuckin wet back, smack you wit the fuck med' s pack | |
Then have sex at, the same place i park my lex at | |
buckshot | |
The last black gene, green socks | |
Serve the fans quick like servin fiend rock | |
Understand the scene is locked, when you dead bolt | |
Hit em in the throat, ride em like the jet black colt | |
Through the jungle, it' s another rumble when i set it so free | |
And flee from his body back to the ogc | |
I never heard of that nigga, in the first place | |
I hit him in the worst place, hid the waste | |
Need a replacement killa, hustle dope shit so i' m a drug dealer | |
So for reala, on point wit the nine milla | |
Straight give a nigga guillotine shit | |
Heads come off the ? lean? wit one stroke | |
Two tokes from the mack tilly | |
Give a mothafucker two to the belly | |
Stop, look and acting like the shot from your ass whippin | |
Nigga, why you trippin, don' t start slippin now | |
Fool keep flippin | |
rock | |
It' s not over, it' s not over, oh oh | |
louieville sluggah | |
Yo it was on to the next phase | |
Spit ink on a page, hostile rage | |
No sugar and sour like lemmonade | |
Bing came to me in a dream he said " come clean" | |
So i scalped and praise, i' m on my way | |
Gat and pick straight out the gate | |
When i see yo say " you back up on your duty ?" | |
Yo my mouth spittin arson, new shit is startin | |
But ain' t shit changed, you know your range, beg your pardon | |
Starv like marv, i' m on the job | |
First rob and ? slug? mothafuckers licked the knob | |
Be like that, when i clap back time | |
I feel it deeply, for my niggas i left behind | |
I rep for mine, here son feel the shine | |
Can' t say no names, cuz all my niggas is on my mind | |
Yo i' m all about me sonee, hand me money | |
Ja ja, and bring yo ass here to poppa | |
talking and threats to the end |
Aiyyo i been spittin this rap shit for too long | |
To let y' all heads get me hot under my collar through songs | |
And best don' t get it twisted | |
My magnum force practice operation: lockdown | |
And don' t you clowns ever forget it | |
The other half' ll feel my brother' s wrath, that we break through | |
And always been the type to take you there like ? warren staples? | |
Blow spots wit no glock the show stop when domes pop | |
You should of stayed your ass home bop, you got a flownot | |
illa noyz | |
I set it off on a mission like the sentinel | |
Cuz i was sent to do, murder the crew sayin i' m merciful | |
I wrote a few, journals in my nocturnal state | |
Blaze like an inferno, watch niggas just cremate | |
Too late to run and turn to rev. run | |
Some blessin the section, givin them niggas quick trips to heaven | |
Straight murder wit the unhearda, lyritifical | |
Beneficial, that you never pursure the issue | |
The ninth initial, thought as to rip the bits n kibbles | |
I kick ass, more than a little, my rhyme riddle | |
Your mind' s a dead vegetable when i hit you | |
Doin like i should do, bringin noyz to my acquittal | |
steele | |
Wit no discrepency, i rip mc wit no referee | |
Devil tested me, can' t let him get the best of me | |
Wit accuracy, i' ll attack an mc | |
Spittin like i emptied the m1 from the mp | |
Wit no apology, unload on your property causing atrocity | |
At a rapid velocity, mental artillery, military anatomy | |
After you battle me call me your majesty for mastering | |
The art of fastening, grappling, locking down this rapping thing | |
Tackling the majority, bomb with authority | |
More than minority, st got seniority | |
Rhymin since knowledge and quality wit college degree | |
kill out to all the enemy, we killin all a dem | |
Kill out to all the enemy, don' t matter if it' s enemy or friend | |
doc holiday | |
Doc ain' t nuttin but the truth, 100 when i get bent | |
It' s possible that i' m mad, forget ? i' m blind, deaf, and mute | |
To all you shit poppers, put your money where your mouth at | |
I roll wit bank stoppers, fivefoot reps who whip ass | |
Erases coppers, it' s mandatory, that doc stay shittin | |
Laws and lows to keep you hoes on my didick | |
My foes stay foes so all you jacks need to quit it | |
Doc shines, hot lines, and jackers come and get it | |
And one false move, i' m guaranteed to be acquitted | |
lidu rock | |
Aiyyo, we gang bangin, through the tristate area | |
Act up, my mfc niggas' ll have to bury ya | |
Ain' t nuttin scarier, than a fivefoot eight nigga | |
Holding the big toast, make yo chest piece shake | |
I cut niggas like class and glass from dirty bottles | |
Runnin through these streets highspeed at full throttle | |
Ghetto role models, so what the fuck y' all tellin me | |
Misdemeanor cats wit raps, wannabe felonies | |
Fuck sellin trees man, i smoke too much | |
I lay my raps, get my traps, then i roast the dutch | |
Y' all niggas boast too much, about the shit you got | |
I hope the money save that ass when the shit get hot | |
It' s lidu rock | |
rock | |
Many think i ain' t got it in me, cuz i' m plentyfriendly | |
It could be because i' m skinny | |
But i' ll fuck you up like henny and remmy | |
? if any of trash?, we' ll i' ll scream " gimme" | |
To any who make it hard to get away like tim or penny | |
Semiauto, wit a swift into your track, ? it cracks? | |
And creeps morse code, i' m sendin smoke signals | |
That' s how my gats be | |
Tactics, i crack piece are phenomenal | |
Ask peeps, what kinda drama do the bummy jab wreak | |
He' ll tell ya, the boy cause straight heltah skeltah | |
I got the block sweltering and hot like your biotch when i felt her | |
So don' t fuck wit my head, got static i' m buckin you dead | |
I' ll bend your body like craftmatic adjustable bed | |
Fuck what you said, for y' all i got nuttin but leado | |
And stop fuckin askin me why ruck cut his dreads | |
It' s up in the air, we buckin from here, to where you rest at | |
In a jet black, expedition fishin to get some get back | |
kill out to all our enemies, we killin all a dem | |
Kill out to all our enemies, no matter if it' s enemy or friend | |
rustee jux | |
My militant mind' s impervious to submission | |
Maintain in the rank, glorious in this division | |
Killa cartelnmfc in collision | |
The scene could get bloody, two teams wit one mission | |
I stomps through the crack slums of mother medina | |
Push weed to stack funds for my mother dina | |
Rustee juxman, brooklyn mercenary | |
Some say it' s rap, some say it' s legendary | |
The pack that run wit me, attack wit guns swiftly | |
My young legion niggas got smacked on onefifty | |
Cold mashin, straight blastin, steady mobbin | |
I rose to large drug dealin from petty robbin | |
supreme | |
Well it' s the fiveeight, hands i' m holdin brothers for ransom | |
Operation generation down to the seeds of your grandson | |
And blow off like a handgun, hittin niggas at random | |
Damn son, got love for thugs singin my anthem | |
I amp them, spittin my raps spectacular | |
Forever clappin the rapper that' s bitin like he dracula | |
You see what happens to all of these fake rhyme fashioners | |
I bring disaster to niggas thats claimin they done mastered the | |
Art, who' s the next on my chart to mark | |
You know i swim wit the shark, why y' all niggas wanna start | |
Big gram and knee low, stay on the dlow | |
Rollin black in the back of the fat expo | |
tek | |
Well it' s the lazyeye criminal, baby nines the minimum | |
In the gat cabin, tek we make it happen | |
You just rappin, bitch niggas get bitch smacked when | |
You start yappin, get your shine snatched for flashin | |
Straight extorted, like an irs audit | |
You never gonna bust that gun, so why you bought it? | |
See you came home frolic, but you show fake love | |
Like the feds try to get close and lay down bugs | |
Try to skate but got schemed on, you had to lay | |
Didn' t know niggas got desert e' s and pk' s | |
starang | |
Me and my crew ride up and down st. james like a pack of great danes | |
Ain' t shit changed, see y' all niggas take your gold frames | |
Spit in your face and i' m a have to smack flames | |
Out your ass for tryin to laugh and plus play games word up | |
We ain' t connecticut, ain' t even sweatin it | |
Pack up your bags bitch, come wit some better shit | |
Son them niggas probably home right now, for real regretting it | |
I don' t want to be y' all, when we see y' all i' m settin it | |
Niggas on my dick so much i brought a saddle | |
We can take it to the streets word up word up, bring your heat, battle | |
For your sevenforty beamer, wit your shorty kima in it | |
If you platinum you can drive me through manhattan while i hit it | |
Everywhere i go, i let em know starang' s the shit | |
Over threehundred thousand fans and ain' t never had a hit | |
William h. is the name, mfc' s the click | |
Y' all niggas takin us out?, y' all smokin the shit | |
retreat retreat, all pussy boys, retreat magnum force come to take over | |
Retreat, retreat, all pussy boys, retreat magnum force come to take over | |
ruck | |
Sean p., you better recognize, i be wreckin guys | |
Fuckin cockroaches still breathin up your pesticides | |
Like dcon, see sean be on some shit from day one | |
Spray guns at funny style niggas who actin gay son | |
Ruck made the paper, you could turn to page one | |
Buttfuckin your chick wit a mothafuckin gauge son | |
Who said that? ruck said wack shit, aiyyo dead that | |
For the headcrack, leave your face lumpy like craig mack | |
I read that, niggas want beef aiyyo so get back | |
? happen in? person cuz i' m hurtin niggas who said that | |
You fuckin wet back, smack you wit the fuck med' s pack | |
Then have sex at, the same place i park my lex at | |
buckshot | |
The last black gene, green socks | |
Serve the fans quick like servin fiend rock | |
Understand the scene is locked, when you dead bolt | |
Hit em in the throat, ride em like the jet black colt | |
Through the jungle, it' s another rumble when i set it so free | |
And flee from his body back to the ogc | |
I never heard of that nigga, in the first place | |
I hit him in the worst place, hid the waste | |
Need a replacement killa, hustle dope shit so i' m a drug dealer | |
So for reala, on point wit the nine milla | |
Straight give a nigga guillotine shit | |
Heads come off the ? lean? wit one stroke | |
Two tokes from the mack tilly | |
Give a mothafucker two to the belly | |
Stop, look and acting like the shot from your ass whippin | |
Nigga, why you trippin, don' t start slippin now | |
Fool keep flippin | |
rock | |
It' s not over, it' s not over, oh oh | |
louieville sluggah | |
Yo it was on to the next phase | |
Spit ink on a page, hostile rage | |
No sugar and sour like lemmonade | |
Bing came to me in a dream he said " come clean" | |
So i scalped and praise, i' m on my way | |
Gat and pick straight out the gate | |
When i see yo say " you back up on your duty ?" | |
Yo my mouth spittin arson, new shit is startin | |
But ain' t shit changed, you know your range, beg your pardon | |
Starv like marv, i' m on the job | |
First rob and ? slug? mothafuckers licked the knob | |
Be like that, when i clap back time | |
I feel it deeply, for my niggas i left behind | |
I rep for mine, here son feel the shine | |
Can' t say no names, cuz all my niggas is on my mind | |
Yo i' m all about me sonee, hand me money | |
Ja ja, and bring yo ass here to poppa | |
talking and threats to the end |