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letra de art of war - ounto nation

[verse 1: abra cadabra]
no problem
they don’t really wanna do road
17, man will do show
caught him slippin’ at bruce grove
man that nigga left with more than a bruised nose
they are not f-ckin’ with me, nah
they cannot f-ck with the t
they only know about tx – the actor
idris, me i know shotty and t (murder!)
leggy come tru wid a one pop
they don’t wanna see pop shots
fiddy got the loud and it’s top notch
the pussy got popped and he logged off
big tum-tum that will turn man pack
run mandown, pray to god he don’t lack
grub come, shit, i ain’t runnin’ dat back
i keep it bridge, get burned for the pack
bridge get burned for the pack
manna got the suttin, don’t lack
kush got the suttin in the bag
kush in a 4 door (skrr)
make it bang
niggas really think we just rap
young black niggas with a strap
olders really whats a wrap
my niggas don’t deal with no gas
back out the ting on your blaadclart
slap out the ting in your r-ssclart
no problem

[chorus: abra cadabra]
niggas don’t catch corn
f-ckin’ juvies, d-ckheads, fools
bow bow bow, skrr skrr skrr
that’s what you hear when my niggas slide tru in the ford
skrr skrr skrr, shh shh shh shh
big rambizzy pon my side, it’s a mad ting
any loose chat, finna send that f-ck boy to the lord
you stabbin’ civilians and claimin’ these bodies
my nigga, you know that these bodies ain’t yours
they think that they know about burners
just screamin’ out numbers
got 9’s and 2’s
they don’t know how to shoot, man these niggas are frauds

[verse 2: legz]
i think i need to start gettin’ drills off fiddy (some ounto)
cah abz running fire
with no problems, you see me
if i ever see these pussies
my knife start movin’ giggidy-giggidy (giggidy-giggidy)
no family guy, but you know see my brothers with me
everytime i go tru block remember that these guys are shit
even if they had sticks, empty clips
how the f-ck their ting gon’ spit?
like, who these yutes gon’ hit?
i can’t really do dis kiddy ting
from bruce grove down to four street, is man’s acres
what po’s the strip (park lane)

[verse 3: kush]
on the block cat late with the bros
17 tottenham with my woes
niggas don’t try step in my zone
cah disrespect. we don’t take no
all my niggas get dough
ring-ring trap from my phone
plug get burned on the roads
man get jerked on the low
curbs get scared of his own
do roads with my bros
and my ountos move show to show
when we hit the show we qway out
on the backroads, the wrongs get jerked for the pack
and i feel no way now
i’m in love with cash flow
and i’ve been makin’ stacks
long time since my cash low
i’m in love with the packs, bro
man, i hit the up the trap
put p’s for my mash, yo

[verse 4: kash]
me trynna send man heaven
crash got hit with a 6, daz got hit with a 7
feds trynna lock down the section
the yg’s, they’re savage, they’re really trynna turn opps lemon
ain’t trynna aim at legs, really tryna off man’s melon
really trynna get man kweng
said they crashed corn at the bruddas
rip to the nizz what? when?
i remember that day when that yute got wet, i’ll never forget
these niggas be stabbin’ civilians
neeks ain’t stabbin’ my friends
are they really gon’ mad?
nigga must have really gon’ mad
chat bare w-ss
hella verbs ’bout they ducked down kash
hit their strip and they dash
give a f-ck ’bout your gang
8, and i’m trynna make bands
joke about your ting with a neek face
gotta tell the gyal, “get naked”
got a bad b from the woods, sssh sssh
put my wood where her face is
little nigga got whacked in his face
and he hopped on peri and ain’t even trynna ride
can’t sleep on a vio, when man skrrr ’round the woods
and then skrrr ’round the 9
shot get beat like hella tings
got hella nits on my line
r-ss had me locked in the vil
now i’m back on the roads on my grind

[outro: abra cadabra]
to the lord
to the lord
to the lord
pussy

- ounto nation

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