Testi musica canzoni

ft. DMG[DMG]Call me psychotive but I'm bad, nigga yo!And I'ma do ya bad, blackAnd when I come, I'm bustin up niggas to hear me, blackYa should of never let a nigga seeif there was niggas and bitches and bitches and niggas that hated meHuh, I waited for my date to come-of-ageand now I'm of-age I can't escape the fuckin front pageSo I guess that nigga D is up to hit againI kicks the funky shit and coke, and stupid like I'm GilliganI'm P, supposed to hit a lick for a jackThe only thing I gained is the pain of niggas comin backNigga lookin for they shit, aggravated and pissedNiggas they can't fuck with my cliqueI'm here to break em off for chunkA D-E-A-T-H-L-Y, a motherfuckin punkAnd I be rollin with the brassDon't answer with the ziggers in your hood, he break your neck to roll apass, niggaDon't even stop to say 'Whattup?' cos I bust for the fuckAnd pay some quick to light a motherfucker upNext time you stop me on your block, I hope you leave the placeor be the next to meet the Lord face-to-faceNigga, I ain't the one to take no bullshitCos see a nigga like the D is game to empty out the full clipSo when I come for ya, act like ya knowSittin motherfuckin smooth to the curb but you don't hear do'[Chorus:]I'ma bring ya to ya asshole (uh)Do it like the G-to-O (yeah)Bustin on that ass but still I see that you don't hear me do'(But you don't hear me do')Bring ya to ya asshole (uh)Do it like the G-to-O (yeah)Bustin on that ass but still I see that you don't hear me do'[DMG]It's time to fuck em up, here it comes, BLAST, nigga!Thump to your chest and they comin out your ass, niggaI grew apart, livin my life as a criminalNiggas G to kill but still I see that you don't hear me do'So I'ma serve it to ya fat, hit the deck, mateHit the deck mate, call me Flipper when I checkmateD-um divertin nine, Tre-9, full Glock, GlockMy Glock makin sounds and it don't stopSo nigga pass the swisha quickand I'ma blaze til the motherfucker burn me off my fingertipsCos, see a nigga gotta saty highI try to smoke til I can't smoke and then I won't smokeBut still I got my fingers on my shitand click, click, click, ya die, die, die, ya dead, bitch!You tried to test the wrong nigga, be a testedStraight from St.Paul but clockin G's down in TexasSome think I'm talk cos I play it coolbut I ain't the average motherfucker, I do the shit that niggas won't doHuh, like pistol whip a woodie for his bankThen after that I gate and grab his bitch and do the same thangAnd I will pain up the assholeCollectin grips on my drips as I stroll but you don't hear me do'[Chorus][DMG]Ain't no mistakin what I'm bringin, you motherfuckers still ain't hadenoughSo I'ma continue to break you off for proper ass chunkMay it be 9, may it be a gauge, may it be a shankAny way you come I'm in your motherfuckin shit, mate!Huh, a nigga bustin caps, smokin firesquick to bring it to your ass and keep on goin til your ass dieAnd it ain't no runnin down dem backstreetscos I got slugs to catch em with Carl Lewis on the track meetHuh, and still you wanna test a nigga soAudi 5, nigga, hate to see ya go but you don't hear me do'[Chorus]Yeah, check it!more