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letra de p.a.n (lil' flip diss) - t.i.

[chorus]
p-ssy ass n-gga
pu-p-ssy ass n-gga
pu-p-ssy ass n-gga
pu-p-ssy ass n-gga
p-ssy ass n-gga
pu-p-ssy ass n-gga (c’mon)
pu-p-ssy ass n-gga
pu-p-ssy ass n-gga
pu-p-ssy ass n-gga
pu-p-ssy ass n-gga
pu-p-ssy ass n-gga
pu-p-ssy, p-ssy, p-ssy ass
p-ssy ass n-gga
pu-p-ssy ass n-gga (c’mon)
pu-p-ssy ass n-gga
pu-p-ssy ass, pu-p-ssy ass
pu-p-ssy ass n-gga
pu-p-ssy ass n-gga
pu-p-ssy ass n-gga
pu-p-ssy, p-ssy, p-ssy ass
pu-p-ssy ass n-gga
pu-p-ssy ass n-gga (c’mon)
pu-p-ssy ass n-gga
pu-p-ssy ass, pu-p-ssy ass
pu-p-ssy ass n-gga
[bun b]
you born a b-tch, you die a b-tch
born a ho, you die a ho
f-ck n-ggas like that, the type of cats i don’t even try to know
keep bumpin’ your gums b-tch
watch me come apply the 4 (c’mon)
pound pressure and compress your chest just like a xylophone
you think yo hood get crunk, let me take you to a wilder zone
you can get yo numbers pushed without me havin’ to dial a phone
out of towners get they asses turned into a pile (c’mon) of bones (man)
gangstas catchin’ new cases even when they trial is on (oh yuh)
i been in real wars when n-ggas lost brеad, (c’mon) lost work, lost territories some lost hеads (for real)
reorganized the clique when the under boss fled (c’mon)
and at the same time tryin’ not to run across feds (yea)
so who the f-ck is you to try and come and judge me
i’m to heavy in this game n-gga you can’t budge me
you ain’t gotta love me mothaf-cka ’cause my momma do (c’mon)
put that on pimp c mothaf-cka you don’t want the drama you

[chorus]
p-ssy ass n-gga
pu-p-ssy ass n-gga
pu-p-ssy ass n-gga
pu-p-ssy, p-ssy, p-ssy ass
pu-p-ssy ass n-gga
pu-p-ssy ass n-gga (c’mon)
pu-p-ssy ass n-gga
pu-p-ssy ass, pu-p-ssy ass
pu-p-ssy ass n-gga
pu-p-ssy ass n-gga
pu-p-ssy ass n-gga
pu-p-ssy, p-ssy, p-ssy ass
p-ssy ass n-gga
pu-p-ssy ass n-gga (c’mon)
pu-p-ssy ass n-gga
pu-p-ssy ass, pu-p-ssy ass
pu-p-ssy
[t.i.]
p-ssy n-gga swear he tote glocks and never shot a gun in his life
‘pose to be a clover g and he ain’t never wanna fight
ain’t livin’ none of the sh-t that you be spittin’ on the mic (c’mon)
man, your sissy ass a cross dresser, sumthin’ like a dike
don’t be smilin’ when you see me ’cause it’s on, on sight
but cha probably hall ass and let’cha homeboys fight
you’s a sucker duck
ran out the h ’cause you ain’t tough enough (c’mon)
studied real n-ggas now your comin’ up because of us
n-gga’s like “screw lil 3rd and face. bun b, pimp c, slim thug and tray. z-ro, willie d and ah course lil j” (c’mon)
??? ??? you’s a f-ckin’ disgrace
in the long star state you’s a well known fake
p-ss on your casket at your wake and then spit in your face
you can hide, play it safe and tell lies if you wanna (c’mon)
but your ass is still a goner whenever i run up on ya
i’ma chase your f-ggot ass from texas to california
yeah, tip gon’ drill your ass into a coma
ye ain’t southside, south???, clover or botany (c’mon)
sucker n-gga keep it real, ye ain’t shot n0body
you’s a

[outro]
p-ssy ass n-gga

- t i

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