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letra de real mobs - lune squad

[verse 1: boogie]
hey yo, bukshot, here’s another track from the lunes
trigger finger itchin’, my mag’s loaded with them goons
them clowns trippin’ but they ain’t name-droppin’
i watch they videos and laugh but i’m ready to get sh-t poppin’
i’m dyin’ for the verse where you say my f-ckin’ name, dawg
c-ck the hammer back and slam it like i was playing pong
i’m on my grown man sh-t and you’s a real-life poser
your rap sheet is a joke and i’m asking a judge for disclosure
before you grow some f-ckin’ b-lls and start some sh-t, kid
i’m at the top of my mobbin’ and i can get your head
talkin’ all that sh-t about the set you rep
you never met a real mobster, so motherf-cker don’t make me call him
so why you claimin’ to be a monster? i’m a beast, clown
just name the time and the place, the squad will come to town
i’ll scalp your deadhead ass, eat your brains up like pasta
you p-ssies ain’t got sh-t on real motherf-ckin’ mobsters

[chorus: boondox]
hey lunes! don’t know where the f-ck y’all from
with them louisville sluggers and the promag drums
these goons! ain’t knowin’ where the f-ck y’all from
watch ’em all duck and cover when you show that gun
let ’em move, b-tch, ’cause they hop up out the cutty
with the boomstick, ’bout to get ’em all bl–dy
yo lune squad! make them hoes a memory
so they know that they f-ckin’ with the m-o-b
[verse 2: bukshot]
don’t approach a k!ller in his prime
hands stay dirty and not afraid to grind
made a living pushing dope beats
that’s a long way from selling dope on the streets
records filthy, still can’t get it clean
you gotta understand, for me, the mob is everything
came from nothing, built it off of tears
lost a lot of blood, been doin’ this for years
can’t count the wounds in my back
the scars on my chest always remind that
it’s a dirty game but somebody’s gotta do it
it’s a minefield here, walk right through it (right through it)
had my share of fails, never let it stop me
big stick in my hand, move softly
spit on anybody showin’ disrespect
m-o-b sh-t is real! you about to get checked

[chorus: boondox]
hey lunes! don’t know where the f-ck y’all from
with them louisville sluggers and the promag drums
these goons! ain’t knowin’ where the f-ck y’all from
watch ’em all duck and cover when you show that gun
let ’em move, b-tch, ’cause they hop up out the cutty
with the boomstick, ’bout to get ’em all bl–dy
yo lune squad! make them hoes a memory
so they know that they f-ckin’ with the m-o-b
[verse 3: krawley]
one, two, three to the four
the lunes and the boss are at your motherf-ckin’ door
and we stoppin’ by ’cause we heard you talkin’ sh-t, man
drop your ass f-ckin’ faster than some quicksand
and we don’t give a d-mn what all these b-tches think
call the cops, they find your head up in a kitchen sink
so just know when your ass gets to steppin’
it’s a 187, b-tch, you better call a reverend
this the mob, lunatics, and some real gs
ak-47 bring a f-ckboy to his knees
so go tell your boys the squad’s f-ckin’ coming
some real mobsters, b-tch, please start something
but you ain’t worth f-ckin’ sayin’ your name
you’s about as useless as the set you claim
and it ain’t no games and it ain’t no lies
when we find you, i’ma stick a rusted blade in your f-ckin’ eye

- lune squad

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