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Songs | Albums | Album Arts
| Song: | Touched Wit It |
| Album: | | Genres: | |
| Year: | | Length: | |
Lyrics:
Boy, I think this the second time you done passed up this sign You goin' the wrong way, main Slow ya roll, slow ya roll, ya know what I'm sayin'? Look, we about to go I-255, (yeah) straight up to Memphis, (ya show) See what I'm sayin'? Paul said he gon' meet us by Walgreens We 'bout to go head on and break this bread Ya see what I'm sayin'? What you gon' do? Bitch, you can picture the pain, I rip you in vain While the young soldiers whisper my name I'm dealin' the 'caine, sippin' on Crown, smokin' that Jane Open the brain, let that shit inject, you think that I'm playin'? Don't make me get at your kin for those that can't Either you die slow, ride slow, 'cause Fiend about to show How not only God knows, these niggas our hoes, my stock broke So we ain't trippin', puttin' knives to throats, buckin' the clip at the 5-0, allow smoke Dosha go straight to my lungs, I see WHOMP WHOMP WHOMP WHOMP In ya streets, chopper intro, now peep this Got wit' you F-I-E-N-D and Three-6 Talk it like I bring, I feel you need this, deep shit Sleep wit' them fishes, eat wit' them bitches, it's all on you Like that lil' nigga B.G. CD, Volume 2 I throw hollows through, what you use to swallow and chew 'Bout what ya gon' do? Infamous, I'm leavin' brain dust I'll endanger you lames like strangers I'm in this bitch, pimp stick, clothes hangers I'm out the frame, on a lame, like a banger I either put you in a cross or I pull the Moss I'm runnin' through some logs, tryna blow ya leg off I put some shit up in the line that'll blow ya mind It's like some Colt 45, does it every time, nigga, get my rhymes If I pull my pistol, I'ma bust wit' it Never see me holdin' it and go fuss wit' it You gon' be a big pussy gettin' fucked wit' it Forever tucked wit' it, 'cause you done got touched wit' it If I pull my pistol, I'ma bust wit' it Never see me holdin' it and go fuss wit' it You gon' be a big pussy gettin' fucked wit' it Forever tucked wit' it, 'cause you done got touched wit' it Act like you know me when I say I'm head thug on your block Hold ya breath when I spray paint my name on yo' spot Tell yourself you ain't scared when I run in your shit I ain't 'bout no games, woadie, it's your life or yo' bitch Apologize when I pass by, bootin' my grill 3rd Ward, I represent it, Blood City for real Forget you know me when I pistol whip you and yo' clique No Limit riders, Three-6, y'all ain't runnin' like this Now what's the fuck the use of holdin' a gun and playin' wit' you hoes? I'm 'bout to shut down yo' heart, that's how the story goes These boys think 'cause we some CEOs, we must be some hoes It's consequences and repercussions fuckin' wit' pros These bitches hot 'cause it's Hypnotized and No Limit We off the wham, but only real niggas all up in it I tell you what, Serv, kill the head of yo' clique And I bet all them hoes quit talkin' shit If I pull my pistol, I'ma bust wit' it Never see me holdin' it and go fuss wit' it You gon' be a big pussy gettin' fucked wit' it Forever tucked wit' it, 'cause you done got touched wit' it If I pull my pistol, I'ma bust wit' it Never see me holdin' it and go fuss wit' it You gon' be a big pussy gettin' fucked wit' it Forever tucked wit' it, 'cause you done got touched wit' it I never ran up to a trunk, blastin' on a fuckin' punk Toxicated, high, or drunk, try and grab the closest pump Never flodged on how I lived, fight a nigga over a bitch Playa, I'm just callin' pimp, always keep a cigarette lit Never walked up in the club, dissin' niggas wit' a mug Always keep my own sack, never wanted to hit your bud Independent on you hoes, makin' more than sellin' dope If you wanna hate the clique, nigga, I make your body froze Close your eyes, mouth full, it's a South thang, thuggin' like that You say you know I'm in North Memphis pushin' that drill Tearin' clubs up in South Memphis and Smokey City Say your prayers when I lay that iron clean on yo' chest Don't play no games, boy, I'm kinda wild wit' that TEC Pretend you dead when I scream, 'What city you claim?' Fuck around wit' me I separate your body from your name Lay down, bitch, La Chat, and I ain't playin' no games Buckin' you hoes, my motto, keep my distance from lames My .45 be on my side, and I be ready to ride We catch you slippin', you be missin', have you buried alive My niggas down-down, we got that anna that you bitches don't want Step to me wrong, Paul, Juicy, Pat, La Chat be strapped wit' them pumps Now how you figure when you fuck up that we gon' let you live? We kill your ass, then set a ransom for your guts that we spill! If I pull my pistol, I'ma bust wit' it Never see me holdin' it and go fuss wit' it You gon' be a big pussy gettin' fucked wit' it Forever tucked wit' it, 'cause you done got touched wit' it
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