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[Chorus: Nate All these niggaz talkin 'bout what they gon' Heard you caught a misdemeanor then I heard you hands with the D.A. while you made your deal Three thousand miles away and I hear you still Half niggaz snitchin yo and that's for real I know hard to swallow, that's a big ol' pill If I catch you motherfuckers you gon' some steel I know it might crazy, that's the way I feel
Uhh, trace this to it's basis, no movie No yay, no pounds, no uzi Not a car, no bling, a bougie bitch You got all of these rappers sayin they movin They whole cliques switch boob and tits If you're - truly bitch, they'll - usually snitch In a way I say my toolies spit But if it to coppin a plea, it includes the fifth! The is flipped cause spirits see the diaphragms Gangsta rappers with for hired hands Police and riot vans, callin us pirate Government guide hands, with private To damage the game, it's a shame to survive a we high off liquor, bitches and Vicadin Yell out we strike again, so triflin Got kids idlin the vest to (look Ma!) Why you make a fake life in Glorify the but never a Bible hymn And as the keep tyin in Until the Feds indict the fans just for in, where's the violin?
[Swifty Hah, are you the guy told the guy that I'm the guy that gave the guy a a P; now the police is after me Askin me questions, me shit you only knew up on me out the blue, all this shit because of you Watch to do somethin cool bitch, snitchin like Bull Now yo' fucked up, and I'm announcin you responsible And I'm cut the fuck up, and gonna do but sit yo' ass there So what? Ain't fair When a nigga like you get carried away without lips And they wonderin why Swifty be killin shit {AHH!} I drop you off and get lost, come back the day witcho' tongue cut off nigga, it's cursed You the one who count, so give my G's up (straight up) And when it comes to shootin you the one who up That's why yo' broke ass could these nuts and folks ask, follow everything that reads up on your you made, I will escort you to your grave see me behind bars so you can get paid? That's negative, you threaten my I CAN'T let you live Then you think that it'll catch up to your momma and your snitch {AHH!}
If you aim for slugs that's by killers Now the game done these niggaz out here praisin squealers Go Proof - my behavior's iller when tellin the Expunge my gun like any paid felon'll do My spoken is well in the truth, you in hell and the From the to the jail or the booth Bod boy shall illuminate in silence Gangsta, one that communicates through Go Proof - not yappin or hostile rappin All on TV up and glocks go flashin It's all - y'all just don't see the director the camera that yells out "Action" (take one!) Blowin off the door hinge to a world in Where the have supportive recorded performance enormous shortage of poor kids with new deals, they will distorted and tortured And I ain't losin like 'Pac, there's on my block I'm from Detroit bitch, it ain't to be shot [gunshots]
(Is he alive?) (Yeah yeah, I so) (Alright great, sign him!)
[Outro: Heh, aiyyo dig If you the masses, you tell the cops But if that street yappin made you famous, you a star hey, write down "star" Write "star" on a piece of paper Hold it up in of you, right in the mirror Put it in the Hold it up in front of you, and YOU We don't you [laughs] at me, fix it faggots..