Motha Fuck You

(*talking*) Ah-ah, Cut Throat to the motherfucking Bone gristle, you understand me Fuck another nigga, fuck em [Hook] Motherfuck you, and your niggas Cause me and my niggas, we terrorize niggas Motherfuck you, and your niggas Cause me and my niggas, we ride or die niggas [Soulja Slim] I spray gats like raid, when the roaches come out You wanna fuck with the team, then the coaches come out Holes in your mouth, bullets leaving holes in your house Ice block so cold, niggas catching a gout Set I trends, fucking two cat eyed friends Getting brain in the back, of the cat-eyed Benz Black eyed lens, looking like M-I-B When I be, stomping through your VIP H.N.I.C., represent that MP3 Fuck you, you ain't getting nothing from me But hot lead to your dome, black thick and chrome That's all I tote, sticky-ayo that's all I smoke Now there I go rambling, but I could back it up fast Catch you in the club, I scuffle your bitch ass Brigadors be down to die for me, soldiers be down to ride for me Bistanders do get hit, no apologies [Hook - 2x] [Curren$y] Now when the 4-4's, come out You'd think your whole click was Ludacris, the way they rolling out It's Curren$y the Hot Spitter, I control the South Look at who I be around, then you'll know what I'm bout Brah you don't want me, to come through Cause one pop out the Glock, I'll leave your fat head with a sun roof Please understand me, brah when my album drop Me and C-Murder, bringing guns to the Grammy's Hoes loving on me, so these niggas can't stand me But they know I got the heat, like Miami Hot Spitter got loot, growing like mildew That with the cameras, instead of the rearview Hit you point blank range, I ain't even near you My niggas ain't from Pittsburgh, but we'll steal you Riding on chrome, all 21 and up Yours under 18, can't even get in the club so [Hook - 2x] [Tre-Nitty] Murder instincts we speaking, tweaking And leave a nigga, leaking on the concrete You run up with cowards, all I got is one nigga behind me At a time to cover my back, and other than that Ain't too many niggas, gon cover my tracks So I feed him, with a long handle Man I'm in the desert, and surviving is a strong gandle So I can't be walking, in the wrong sandles Feeling like all I got, is me myself and I Don't know too many, that I can leave my wealth and die Empty, cause I know that drama will only increase And who's gonna carry me, when I'm trapped under them bed sheets Sealing the sheets with hot blood, niggas steady saying they got love And I'm the one laying with hot slugs, shit I've been there And any nigga that I fuck with, is just like me So when we beefing, that's the nigga you just might see But everybody claiming know 12, saying we blow wells And how I hung with him, but can't say what I done with him [Hook - 4x]