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I'm really not all that sure | 'Bout when things is finna mature | So let me find me a nigga with a grip
I'm really not all that sure 'Bout when things is finna mature So let me find me a nigga with a grip And hit his ass quick with one of them whores (What's the definition of a lick?) Taking a niggaz shit (Hey, put that on sumthin') I put that on the click, the click Back to fuckin' work one of the homies jus' got dusted Time to do some dirt, uh!, I never trusted Them bustas shot him in the shirt, dead on arrival Now the town is funky, it's called survival What y'all wanna do? They got us scuffled (Bullet high, get in your eye) If this was a fifth well I be drunk I'm heated, them niggaz cheated, played me false We had a meetin', shit 'posed to been squashed I know this one bitch that'll double dribble and set 'em up y'all She likes the monies in the middle, play tether ball Thick ass bitch, high yellow city-slicker Scarecrow crevice southern bitches, aka posies pussyfictious Nigga been holdin' guts, but shit on his self and a funky bill Pullin' out bills, frontin' on material shit That's when I get to killin' shit (killin' shit) And settin' I'm up and havin' I'm catchin' a couple of slugs Sl-uh sl-uh slugs, tryna fuck with savage thug Pistol pop in they ass, see niggas be gettin' this twisted It's that bitch that killed ya Took all your money peeled ya Seven niggaz bust in the room with AK's While a nigga be puttin' on his jimmy All of a sudden they shoot up your Vuitton Before you can hit the broccoli See money-a-made that nigga, that nigga didn't make that money Left them niggaz jacked up, and the bitch she macked him He's a busta, punk ass nigga, y'all know the streets That's why that nigga naked layin' dead in between some bloody sheets It's just a part of the game he didn't feel Bitches will kill, fuck a nigga, out his last d-uh dollar bill You don't know that hoe main that bitch can't be trusted Dusted and di-motherfuckin'-sgusted It's some cold hearted shit (back to fuckin work, one of the homies jus' got dusted) Whacha'll wanna do, whacha'll wanna do Cold hearted bitches (back to fuckin work, one of the homies jus' got dusted) Whacha'll wanna do, I never trusted them bustas Some cold hearted shit (back to fuckin' work, one of the homies jus' got dusted) I never trusted them bustas And it's them cold hearted niggas (back to fuckin' work, one of the homies jus' got dusted) Let's let of some 203's on the other side of t-uh-town Draw the attention on the other s-uh-side of town (other side of town) And wait for the po-po shift to change, ghetto shootin' range Revenge on the r-uh-rebound, war games Droughts, ouch, lost clientele but I will prevail By sellin' the broccoli dank instead of the crack cocaine Try not to steal narcotics When these punk MC's and bitches be the reason why The smoke be comin' up out the chow, with my nigga Pac Dear God, can you forgive me? My future's lookin' sick I'm in my rag hittin' switches I'm suspicious of this bitch I keep on, callin', but ain't nobody pickin' up I think she's stallin', this evil bitch is tryin' to set me up Came all alone if it's on then it's on Bust my motherfuckin' chrome, on these jealous niggaz dome It's a war zone but I'm a man so with gun in hand (war zone) I'm on my way to see this hoe you know the fuckin' plan Can't understand, but the things ain't the same You could die over these bitches if you slippin' in the game Niggas gang bang, but bitches gang bang too Give up that good thang, and put that pistol to your brain If you was smart figure, don't have no love in your heart nigga Any complications pull the trigger, dusted and disgusted Bitches can't be trusted, you know the rules They underhanded, she planned it, you fuckin' fool These hoes out here tryin' to hold a nigga's heart So a nigga get his motherfuckin' Balls to the wall Hey be proud of it when you turn these bitches upside down What's gonna happen? Uhh, three and a half dollars or probably fo' if a bitch ridin' Yeah main, them hoes talented They be fuckin' with mo' MC's than jack the rapper Aight fuck it, what you say Mall? Ay, fuck them sheisty ass botches, nigga The California lifestyle that I live Where the bitches is crooked and niggas jus' don't give A flyin' fuck, so I stay stuck, smokin' on the tay-low Bay area player, tryin' ta have shit major And a bitch won't save ya So I ain't playin' captain save a hoe I mob up in ya like a pro and then I'm gone I'm like Sylvester Stallone, everyday is like a Cliffhanger Action packed, I let the mini-mac smack that ass Them hoes jacked that ass Nigga woulda got smokin' on that hash Can't have my cash, better go and take your nigga stash 'Cause he's a busta, niggaz with clusters Slippin' in shit, betta jack that nigga 'fore I jack his ass bitch Never was no love for the mark-ass, the lo pink (the lo pink) You love them Bootys bitches, can't let them pussy bitches Gank that ass, betta hide your cash and check or pass Pump your brakes nigga, slow your roll don't go too fast 'Cause bulletproof ain't doin' no good no mo' no mo' no mo' no mo' Now, niggas comin' up dead with they brains blew out on the fuckin' floor Damn, hella force to the face Teflons to the vest now r-uh-rest Pull a plug on a flat line no p-uh-ulse, one nigga less One nigga less, from coast to coast, to the East to the West Crushin' the flesh, dem bitches played a game of death Look over your shoulder watch your back don't even trust it I'm tryin' to told ya end up dusted It's some cold hearted shit (back to fuckin work, one of the homies jus' got dusted) Whacha'll wanna do, whacha'll wanna do Cold hearted bitches (back to fuckin work, one of the homies jus' got dusted) Whacha'll wanna do, I never trusted them bustas Some cold hearted shit (back to fuckin' work, one of the homies jus' got dusted) I never trusted them bustas And it's them cold hearted niggas (back to fuckin' work, one of the homies jus' got dusted) Dusted 'n' disgusted
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