Tytuł: Fuck you too

• Wykonawca: Fabolous
• Wyświetleń: 328

  
   [Intro - Paul Cain]
  Yeah, Desert Storm niggaz, Cain
  Ghetto, I got these niggaz man (uh huh)
  Clue! (yeah), I'm the first line of defense (yeah)
  And I'ma show 'em what that means (yeah)
  
  [Chorus 1 - Paul Cain]
  I know these niggaz hoped I wouldn't make it - fuck you
  Your hatred only made me wanna cake ya - fuck you
  Wherever I see you nigga I'ma buck you
  And put a hole in your chest that's big enough to drive a truck through
  
  [Verse 1 - Paul Cain]
  I bring the drama back where you lives, flatter your wiz
  Reload and then point the Mag at your kids
  So what I sound remorse, the records I still peep guns on me
  But the difference now is only Deserts
  If I talk it's gonna be reckless; I'm ready to die
  So when I apply pressure, niggaz gon' respect it
  Tote guns to rob niggaz, I told 'em to use
  And leave enemies of friends that like broken and bruised
  They ain't crazy, they just broke and confused; cross me
  And they'll be talks of how they found the man smoked on the news
  I'ma career crook - they used a mug shot from my graduation picture
  And my junior high school yearbook
  Paul Cain never appear shook
  Yeah I might talk to my enemies but never police (nah)
  You wanna converse it better be brief; you ain't gotta say much
  Show me the money and the cheddar'll speak
  If it ain't involvin bread, I ain't with it
  I don't need D's on me, I'm already dodgin Feds
  When the shots from the revolver spread
  Duck, I don't discriminate, leave CEO's and artists dead
  Make slugs a part of his head
  Vanish then pop up in a SL double nickel, scarlet red
  Fuck you I'm tryna get my cash right
  All my niggaz flip birds and blast pipes, addicted to the fast life
  Live everyday like my last night; OD'in or X
  When I got signed like Len Bias on draft night (yeah)
  Niggaz (uh), Street Dreams (yeah) (uh), (yeah)
  
  [Chorus 2 - Fabolous]
  I see ya faggot ass schemin - fuck you
  Bitch you don't wanna swallow semen - fuck you
  No you hate the way I'm "Street Dreamin" - fuck you
  That's why I ridin, clappin, wit the .40 Cal screamin - fuck you
  
  [Verse 2 - Fabolous]
  When I pulled the 5 out; I kinda expected
  For the backstabbers, to be standin behind me, wit they knives out
  Then the Range, wit the fins drove in
  I wasn't shocked to see my foes, dressed in friends clothin
  But - I still pull through the sty; wit handguns
  As big as the one, Robocop pulled from his thigh
  You prolly heard about the bullets I buy; and how it look like
  I'm throwin batteries, when the bullets shoot by
  So what, you wear a vest, why would I care
  If I aim for ya chest, that be a good idea
  Nigga, it's nothing to clap ya; but I'm more worried
  Bout the groupie cops, who wanna put they cuffs on a rappa
  That's why I'm limpin off wit a freak; and a lawyer
  Who woulda got O.J. Simpson off in a week
  I could show you how to blow up on ya own; in a Benz
  That'll hit a buck! and make the windows go up on they own
  Wit a stash box compartment for; a handgun
  That make holes the size of peep holes, on apartment doors
  My closet look like department stores; and you wonder why
  Ya girl's comin home, wit a cigar sip for
  Cause I just dump the light Dutch, mash the guts
  You won't believe how much ass I touch
  Who else struts pass the sluts, and a chain wit so much
  Ash and cuts, that it hangs much pass the nuts
  That's why I get followed by broads; wit deeper throats
  Then the people at the circus, that be swallowin swords
  Y'all hopin that the Don fall off; but my money's long enough
  To keep shootin ya bank until, ya arms fall off
  I'm eatin, and I ain't have to use someone's utinsels
  And when you clean as me, you know that every bum is against you
  But please don't let someone convince you; to test the kid
  And get hit wit slugs as long, as a No. 2 Pencil, fucka
  
  [Chorus 2 - 2x]