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letra de outro (ft. d-12) - obie trice

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nah, nah we ain’t done

i love bein’ hated, it’s great it let’s me know that i made it
i wouldn’t have it no other way i wouldn’t trade it for the world
only lets me know that i’m loved by so many other motherf-ckers
that ain’t you and is bomb, as you keep f-ckin’ with us
we keep f-ckin’ you up and keep pullin’ the rug from up under you

and what’s even more f-cked up, is we enjoy what we’re doin’
so much there ain’t nothin’ that we love more
than pullin’ your skirts up and exposin’ you hoes so much
people are startin’ to wonder what’s up with them
f-ckin’ one dough a man under rules
do on to others as you will have done under you

so who the f-ck you motherf-ckers gonna run to
when someone runs up with a mask and puts a gun to you
you gonna ask yourself, how come your mans didn’t enter
that last round that he had in curtis jackson’s -ss
while he had the chance

you keep askin’ us to keep it on wax but we can’t
this is past any rationalization
we have captured national media attention
conversation is senseless, you can sense the tension start buildin’
soon as we enter the ‘106th & park’ building

someone’s gonna get killed and i swear to god
if someone so much as even touches one of my people
i’ll put a million on his head
and you ain’t got the funds to match or counteract it
but i’d rather rap than get into this gangsta sh-t

and it ain’t because i’m a b-tch
it’s because i ain’t a b-tch, i don’t endanger people that i’m with
i’m a general, i ain’t bush, i don’t send my soldiers to war
if i ain’t there in the middle of the sh-t with ’em, so when i do get ’em
orders to storm your headquarters, you’ll be f-ckin’ with a

f-ckin’ with a piece keeper
see you a n-gg- that greet this lyrical meat cleaver
that’ll eat ya, n-gg-z wanna keep speakin’, like it ain’t even that deep
i got heat that’ll sweep a n-gg- street
see i wouldn’t f-ck with me neither, only heaven can help ya

i’ll be searchin’ for you longer than the ‘legend of zelda’
without a failure, there’s gonna be h-ll to tell the captain
that a b-ssett hound couldn’t even smell ya body
when i hide ya, i be on that mob sh-t
you another hoffa, under the renaissance b-tch

you get bombed like lebanon
with my own tactic
i sn-tch your head like one of saddam’s wigs

motherf-cker, i’ll handle you
we can have it out on any avenue
an average man flipped into an animal
shoot out your mandibles, cannons and ammunition
reload with precision, n-gg- know the mechanicals

break a pistol down, you should see them handles
the street taught the child, no read up manuals
pushin’ crack vows, young nino brown
chasin’ green is the dream, when you’re young and brown

bound to be a problem child, look what i’m involved in now
a ‘dozen dirty’ n-gg-z and they all get down
dissolve any problem that enlarge with ours
when revolvers we said, “all men get out”
c’mon

while your punchin’ and tacklin’ punks
i’m handlin’ chumps, packin’ a pump
that’s longer than the elephant trunk
on the streets i’m a beast, i feast upon the weak
so speak beef, i’ll shoot you and scream “increase the peace”

a monster, pistol packin’ pushin’ n-gg-z off they hondas
stomp ya, get it crackin’, yankin’ b-tches for they ganja
sneaky as f-ck, i don’t think mama beat me enough
when she was sleep and stuff, i was stealin’ the keys to the truck

shut the f-ck up, before you end up dead in the dump truck
or in the streets takin’ a nap, bleedin’ and lumped up
who want what like m. bleek, with this heat if you ten deep
then f-ck it, it will be ten sleepin’

don’t muscle with my a land ski, don’t tustle with my hand speed
clutch your burner, bust it and watch your man bleed
we ferocious, toast no holsters
approach us, throw heat straight from the shoulders

we the soldiers, y’all the youngsters
youngsters lungs puncture, dead in the dumpster
upstairs the munster, hand full of drama
you scared of the drama, bomber the monster

i’m back n-gg-, i reappear
shoot like, you ain’t seein’ clear
blackness, carc-ss covered with cat fish
we murkers with no purpose other than practice

there’s three things i hate, liars, fakes and cheaters
alcoholics, sl-ts and f-ckin’ wife beaters
a gat that describes my life
i don’t even know who song this is
obie trice

b-tch, bizarre don’t give a f-ck about no hip hop
at my release party in a pink tank top and reebok
this ja rule beef i ain’t gettin’ in
i’ll need an r & b singer to sing at my wedding

i turn your face into a f-ckin’ meat patty
i’ll f-ck your mommy and go fishin’ with your granny
i’ll sh-t on you, i’ll pee on r. kelly too
this is bizarre, see you, ‘devil’s night 2’

- obie trice

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