[Featuring C-Bo, Celly Cel] B-Legit: 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 Gets 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 Blocc 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 C-Bo: 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 millas Uggh 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 Celly Cel: 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 C-Bo: Uggh 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 blocc, two hillside B-Legit: 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'
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