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B-Legit

Niggas Get They Wig Split

作词:Brandt Jones, Marceles Mccarver, Mike Mosley, Shawn Thomas

Bitch, I got beam like Scotty
Leave you spotty
When I point this aim at your brain
And leave them hollow thangs in your body
Lodi-dodi I drinks Bacardi

Get's Dick, hard drunk
When I'm off that skunk punk
And you don't wanna dance tingo tango
I let my left right mingle mangle

To your jaw Southpaw
It oughta be a law
Against these thangs I throw
About to lay some shit down
With Celly Cel and Bo

From the Garden Block
Hillside got they glock Mack 10's
Mobb shit'll neva end
I'm tryin' to have it all so I ball 'till I'm gold
Mobbin' through a sixty usin' cruise control

I'm fuckin' wit that click nigga
That big nigga on the block
With glocks, Rag Tops
Cut thangs on them gold knocks

Better watch your back
'Cuz we strapped with teks
Push up in a blue Lex'
And dump caps to your neck

Mobb shit, bustaz all die
Leather trench
Brim and two nines
Costume of a killa
At your bed side holdin' on two Miller's

We bust them Teks close range
Livin' estranged, called insane
'Cuz when it's on it's on site no matter night or day
And you can't fuck wit these
Get smothered with a half a key
Bitch

Give me the ball and I'ma fill the lane like 'Fenney
Hardaway 'cuz I'm out to get every penny
Any nigga disrespectin' when I'm checkin' for my scrilla
I know'm stilla wig splittin' killa ain't no realla

Nigga realla than me
Mobbin' through your hood and takin' heads
Slumpin' hangin out the windows dumpin'
And shakin' 'Feds, so mind your own
Cross the line and see how quick they gone
Head blown decapitated caught slippin' in my zone

Fuckin' with this Mobb shit
Niggaz get they wig split
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It's the murder man posted at the front door
And when they comes I dumps with both four-four's
Letin' 'em have it 'cuz I'm static
Dumpin the grass, killed his ass
And then kneel down and get my last laugh

Punk bitch shouldn't have tripped
Now he lay dead in the ditch
Ass ripped, suckin' on his own dick
Money talk, bullshit walk
Fool this ain't no sunshine
Three killas, one garden block, two hillside

This shit's fucked and I am
Tag teamin' with the murder man
And that'll hurt a man

Niggaz doin' dirt and all you got
To do is hop your ass in my 'Cut
We'll be back tomorrow mornin'
Cell, you comin' or what?

I got this gut feelin'
About to make the killin' for a livin'
The contract said the nigga wore a wire tap
And they want him dead a hundred G's for his head
And leave a bloody glove down where that body bled

Red rum is what I'm hummin' as I hit the fence
Homicide looked for prints but found no evidence
Stuffed his head in the duffel bag and zipped it up
Them balla's want to see his face before they break us off a cut
There it is cashed him like some chips at Reno
Slid us a briefcase full of crispy ass C-Notes

Made the hit, got the scrilla
Gone without a trace be behind the wheel
And Bo Loc cuffed to the briefcase
Yo' nigga Cell got the chopper
'Case they on my trail

If it's a tail then I'ma leave a fifty empty shells
Pistol smokin' these niggaz know we ain't no jokin'
Split up the tokens and I'm back in the hood loccin'

Fuckin' with this Mobb shit
Niggaz get they wig split

Yeah, like a real hillside strangler
Yola slanger, tryin' to get a buck
But if I'm fucked in the gas chamber
The autopsy, red

Them niggaz had some heat for yo ass
And never leave your block
Without your glock, clip and mask
Haters hatin' but its all game
Related and that's what we do bitch