Not to Be F**ked Wit

歌詞

Damn Where my grandmas at? Let me find my ski mask Got my gat Can't let these niggas see my face so they get no finger prints Oh here we go Let's roll We on another mission Catch me in the streets, wit out no heat you better blast 'Cause if I catch you in traffic I'm dumpin' slugs at yo ass There ain't no stoppin' I'm poppin' till I release the 16 Keep one in the chamber, pop in another clip and release The murder scene is trauma 'cause I done handled the drama Now I'm off to dump this strap off at my mama's I get another one of them 24 years 2-1 It ain't no problem 'cause the homies got a gang of guns And I'm constantly puttin' it down for the side where it's at It's the land of big ballers in stillar hats We stay heated So make like Michael Jackson mutha fucka juss beat it Repeat it once again to let you niggas know I mean it To slap you across the head 'cause you ain't leavin' Look what you did (Gasp) Now your whole family creepin' I got the skills to peel A gang of enemies to kill Another bad drug deal there be some shootin' at the hill They tryin' to kill us But this time, them niggas didn't get us Fuckin' wit them baby locs, we ride wit young hittas Niggas figure that they can catch a nigga up in traffic But pull up on me I'm peelin' niggas caps backwards That nizine, that you was pullin' out yo waist line You used to work it fine, but didn't make it this time 'Cause I'm Not To Be Fucked Wit, fucked wit Dippin' in my bucket Servin' cocaine to them cluckers And I, keeps my strap, keeps my strap Always Keeps my strap Lookin' out yo window all you gonna see is us young niggas ridin' Eastsidin' it Survivin' wit 3 strikes Livin' the life of some youngstas livin' plush Eighteens on my Benz Gold D's on my bucket Makin' these duckets to lease Hoes can the Datsun I got 4 bad different bitches where I can get my nuts licked At yours too But the difference between me and you is she gonna rob yo bitch ass as Soon as she get through nigga To bring yo cash to me Yo stash to me It's all gonna be for me That nigga wanted the hunney Bitch all I want is the money And she brings it to me my nigga, juss like that And after 2 or a few times I give a lil sumpthin' back This game is to be sold Not to be told Fuckin' wit the G, I tear you a new asshole So watch yo liver A shit bag is what I deliver Fuckin' wit this baby locster and nigga I'm a hit her And I'm I serve 'em up like a loc And hope this 2-0 Nigga you know, I'm finna rip ride the most 'Cause Vine to Vine I blast through the Woods of Ingle Lay down all yo family, kinfolks, and people From the Hoobangin' Young Swoop Yes, yes y'all Saggin' down to my drawls My set on the wall I had to slow my roll to get in the rap business But I'm ridin' on fools livin' wit this mill ticket You shoulda stayed down And you woulda got a mill ticket (Swoop what's up wit that nigga Daz loc?) I don't know? To be exact I didn't think Daz was fuckin' wit the wack And he know it's like that on the Eastside where we bang at So tell me, is D-A-Z a rida? Hella nah, that nigga Daz ain't a rida (ah ha!) I'm from Eastside Longbeach to the Westside of Inglewood Never, unless there's tradgedy, from bringin' terror So once upon a time, in the early stages of my life Met a busta named Kurupt At Lou Zinger High Put his ass in a dance from the way I do my thang On the mic he displayed it Came from Philly to LA I been all over From Crenshaw to the 60's camp On the 100 an nathin' Wit Big D only strapped It's all about mashin' (mashin', mashin') Stashin' heat If these fools run up, we some blasters Sayin' I'm not to be fucked wit Hit the corner on yo ass in a bucket I'm untouchable Unhittable That niggas un-fuck-witable But they claim they gonna get me though Unforgivable When I pull this trigger slow As y'all watch murder shows Starring this baby loc Walk up on you wit this uzi, I swear juss like a movie Only one of y'all homies done did somethin' to me When I'm ridin', seems like the only way to try Dumpin out the bullets like 10's far from the eye Put dirt on me, murder me Now it's time to meet your maker NAS move to LA and watch these "Street Dreams" take ya Fuckin' wit me, rollin' up the bomb, bomb weed Dippin' in somethin' classic from the early 60's Straight G's Eastside this We ride this Take it for what it is, I'm Not To Be Fucked Wit