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letra de straight regulatin' shit - nini x

verse 1: nini x (bl–dy mary):

nini x is regulatin’ sh-t to the max
blow a hole in a mothaf-ckin’ blue-eyed devil’s back
yo’ f-ggot-ass soul will look good in the grave
type o’ tellin’ yo’ ass, now i used a slave
dangerous and my boys is in this b-tch
dangerous, compare to us, ain’t n0body regulatin’ sh-t

verse 2: lil’ leak:

now, mothaf-cka, yo, it’s on
drinkin’, henn’, tanqueray and eatin’ (?) too
drinkin’ like a mothaf-cka now i’m ’bout to tell you
a story about this fool named james
talkin’ sh-t behind my back, dude stoppin’ my game
people tell all the b-tches i was always broke
told the homies on the hood, i’m a punk and i was on
told that evеrybody knew that he was jealous of mе
and somethin’ new, everyday and it’s, drivin’ me crazy
the homies tell to me to like keep it cool
but when i see yo’ mama grave, you smokin’ gas like in high school
n-ggas got me scr-ppin’ at the park, g
a young n-gga talkin’ sh-t behind my back and it’s about me
i’m not the one to let that sh-t go by
i’m takin’ one to the mouth and now i bet him he won’t ever lie
and now i walk away, then i laugh
i’m regulatin’ mothaf-ckas by the sound of my gun blast
verse 3: big wy:

i’m dump around the hood, everybody best to have me
i’m cookin’ ’em and wackin’ ’em up, and slayin’ ’em like cavvy
i banged on wax, told you a soulja story
i’m on my third album, huh, give me what you got for me
khakis saggin’, 64 draggin’
blunt after blunt from the indo sack and
bring what you want, i’ll play your life like a toy
you thought you got away, naw, naw, you goin’ down, boy
come with that dope sh-t, tricks up for a hard d-ck
then call lil’ stretch, jumpin’ next in your bowels, b-tch

verse 4: awol:

they call me lucifer deuce, because i’m k!llin’ some sh-t
drop-top rosecrans, with a .30-06
so when you see the triple six and the rifle
you prayin’ like f-ck ’cause i’m the devil’s disciple
f-ck it, forgive me, don’t say it won’t happen again
god f-cked up, so now satan is locked in
i gives a fucc about being a role model
17 at the bottom of a 40 bottle
k!ll me once but i still come bacc again
reincarnation as a n-gga with a mac-10
what you missin’ is a life gettin’ took
’cause there’s too many n-ggas, tryna fit in the guinness book
i gaffle so many n-ggas and b-tches and triccs
so much sh-t that it just might not fit
now you know what a bg is down fo’
k!llin’ a b-tch, or checcin’ a tramp hoe
verse 5: oyg redrum 781:

i (?) mothaf-ckas like an alcoholic
r-e-d-r-u-m would be murder, anyway you wanna call it
i ain’t fallin’ for that okey-doke bullsh-t
i guarantee you’ll quick, give up the b and then i throw a full fit
n-gga, you better duck or you’ll get struck by the greatest k!lla
from manilla, standin’ in my black ben davis
f-ckin’ up a track like a rapist
make any n-ggas hate the style ’cause comin’ (?) ’cause i’m flowin’ with the, laters
b-r-e-a-k and you n-ggas off my pain, it’s possible
you know that i’m unstoppable
i’m battled, and logical
rockin’ microphones like that crack sh-t
you better get back, b-tch, before i start to bl–dy up your matches
along with my cl!ck with set trippers
filled with cop k!llas and i love puttin’ pressure on triggas
d-mn, here i am in the flesh givin’ flesh wounds
and i’mma meet yo’ ass in h-ll real soon

verse 6: quiet storm:

i’m that nice but naughty b-tch, regulatin’ all sh-t
jump up in my chest and you’ll get stuck, trick
n-ggas don’t know me and hoes don’t try me
i’m not the girl you take home to your mommy
and don’t violate ’cause you’ll create
open season for storm to regulate
watch yo’ punk-ass ’cause you might get stuck
the b-tch-ass n-gga that plays p-ssy gets f-cked
and don’t except me to feel sorry for your ass
’cause i’mma laugh when i blast…!
straight regulatin’
verse 7: shades:

shady stoppin’ out to back, b-tch, i’m on the attack
i’m comin’ for yo’ head, no need to watch your back
uh, get some o’ this, get some o’ this, huh!
better run and hide ’cause you’re next on my hit list
i’m massacrin’ mothaf-ckas with my mighty millimeter
oh, h-ll, must i, shout
crasher, crasher, don’t get hoe out
run, run, run, you dumb son of a b-tch!
i’m comin’ at cha, then i’m gonna blast ya
makin’ this, don’t try no fakin’, now i’m straight regulatin’

verse 8: lil’ stretch:

i was told by my g’s to live by the trigga
and be quick to get off and chin check a n-gga
and we flex back, with a slight attack
grab my mothaf-ckin’ 9, how they doin’ that
you ain’t aware that a young n-gga squeezed the trigga
then guess who, lil’ stretch is in your mothaf-ckin’ house, n-gga
’cause in the (?) i see the give or take
and let me explain somethin’, if you don’t give it to me, i’m takin’ it
’cause i’m rollin’ with a 9 ball
and if it’s for 21 shots, i’ll take care all o’ y’all
hit the dirt or be first to be in a he-rs-
now, now, mothaf-cka, i know it hurts
comin’ through the back, lettin’ bodies stack
choppin’ n-ggas like a mothaf-ckin’ lumberjack
leavin’ dead bodies, like jesse james
runnin’ wild like a runaway freight train
and it’s not ’cause i hate ya
it is ’cause y’all n-ggas all about this, paper
’cause if i ain’t got it, and i know you got it
guard your sh-t, ’cause i’m out to get it

- nini x

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