Y`All Don`t Want It — текст песни (Lil` Flip f Jim Jones)

Lil` Flip, Jim Jones {*repeat 4X*}

[Chorus: Lil` Flip - repeat 2X]
Y`all don`t want it with us, y`all don`t want it with us
Y`all don`t want it with us (Clover Gs!)
Y`all don`t want it with us, y`all don`t want it with us
Y`all don`t want it with us (Dip Set!)

[Verse 1: Lil` Flip]
This sixteen bars of my brain, I show my scars through my pain
I write my bars on the plane, I bring my boys on the plane
There`s nothing like it, I swear
Can`t no other rappers compare
Cause I can spit it or write it
Just admit it, you like it
I`m the hottest around
Niggaz know how I get down
But this ain`t Making The Band
I`m tired of shaking your hand
I got the piece to the puzzle, I`m on the streets when I hustle
I got the heat with the muzzle, Okay (Okay)
You think you know it all, but I proove to show it all
When I move, you get one shot, hope you don`t blow it, dog
Don`t bite the hand that feeds you
You just a lukewarm, bookworm nigga and believe me, I can read you
I`m tired of snakes and rats, I`m moving forward, you pacing back
While I`m in N.Y. collaborating, blazing tracks
You gotta face the fact, I got the only platinum plaque
I did it well, even when I`m gone, my shit`ll sell

[Chorus]

[Verse 2: Jim Jones]
Just let my movement protrude (Dips)
Or we will move on you dudes (Fuckers)
And you niggaz that`s beefin, okay I`ll chew you like food (Yummy)
Don`t get Houston confused (No)
Cause they music is screwed (Purple)
They ain`t slow for a second, cause they sippin on lean
They will roll up with weapons, the four-fifth and the beam (Boom!)
Get you tore up, we stretch `em, you talk shit to my team (R.I.P.)
We controllin` our section, raw shit for the fiends (I`ll smack you)
The boys controllin` my section, cause we gettin` that cream (Squalie!)
And we roll in Rovers, iced out birds and frozen clovers (Blingin!)
You know I`m smokin dozers, with that thing I roll with soldiers (East Side!)
So if you want it fam, you`ll get it fam, I`ll hit you man (Unnh)
And when I grip that blam, POP! POP! POP!, Dip Set the fam

[Chorus]

[Verse 3: Lil` Flip]
I`m ready to let you have it
Glocks and automatics
I put them in your chest
You shoulda wore your vest
Cause we comin to your house
With the forty cals
Dumpin twenty five rounds
Now bitch, lay it down

[Jim Jones]
So when we pull up to clubs, they say we known for the brawlin
And all these bottles I`m poppin, it`s uncontrollable ballin
Straight from the projects, I`m still cased up with charges
It only takes me three seconds to straight spray out a cartridge
I`m prepared for the streets, and I ain`t scared of police
You know my gangstas ride out, we know to fliz with them heats
We cop cars with them spinners, I be in Texas for breakfast
Sippin` on Purple and Sprite and back in Harlem for dinner

[Chorus]



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