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mausberg - we ain't done yet lyrics
(mausberg:)
yo yo n-gga, where they at now?
(dresta:)
where they at?
(mausberg:)
black tec n-gga
(dresta:)
i don’t see ’em berg
(mausberg:)
the young hogs, n-gga
[mausberg]
y’all n-ggas ain’t ready for berg to drop bomb
blowin’ your block up and i’m hot like napalm
crumble yo wack sh-t then i mash with my sceptor
hollywood n-ggas i’m ready to chin check ya
yo the berg is on some different type sh-t
gangsta trey packin’ the all black pistol grip
my n-ggas be on some ill sh-t
graduated from g-ngb-ngin’ now we k!llin’ over real sh-t
south pacific, the place that they terrified of
black tec gangstas, low lights and real thugs
my dogs bit the hoes, ready for war
brigade of young n-ggas wit’ calicos and .44’s
but them wack n-ggas claim they bring pain
you cowards better stick to bein’ hard in the rap game
‘cuz on the streets i’m the don-mega
a rider from k!ller cali and i’m sayin’ f-ck whateva
chorus:
how can you roll in california
with all that disrespect and not get wet?
this compton, cali where the saga begun
and motherf-cker we ain’t done yet
how can you roll with all that disrespect
in california and not get wet?
this compton, cali where the saga begun
and motherf-cker we ain’t done yet
[dresta]
i’m goin’ out on the first rapper blabbin’ at the mouth
and if you try to hide from me n-gga
i’m gafflin’ your spouse (come here b-tch)
you cannot run from what has been done from day one
my words spread like plague and tread like lead in the wind
so holla holla if you really got a problem
meet the problem solver, chrome .44 revovler
in fact i’m packin’ my strap this very minute
usin’ 2pac image, i’m feenin’ 100 pecent to blaow
yo style is blaow-ted, n-ggas thinkin’ you wild
i know you thinkin’ f-ck dresta, but never thinkin’ out loud
you little b-tch -ss wannabe thug with baby muscles
me and mausberg gonna muscle you bustas outta your hustle
compton, california is original
most popular thugged-out nation where riders never vacation
i stay packin’ the floor thinkin’ of more ways to gaffle your b-tch up and spit you down in four ways
chorus
[mausberg]
i’m still sayin’ f-ck y’all, realest until i fall
pistol packin’ car jackin’ rider ’til i back on some extreme sh-t
leavin’ the car full of rappers leakin’
got my fly on, so f-ck them old people peekin’
i’m tired of rap n-ggas goin’ hollywood
and running off at the mouth and wanna kick it like its all good
i’m the superior, super sp-ced-out on cloud nine
hash and mushrooms got a n-gga mind
and ain’t no tellin’ when i might go pop
fifty cal layin’ n-ggas down, only one shot
my book is full of heavy hitters
thrashers and ready to mash ya on commadn on maus master
y’all n-ggas don’t want no contact with me
three and fifty pounds sweepin’ n-ggas off they feet
i’mma hit ya like vehicular manslaughter
underground, but we prefer to call it underwater
chorus x2
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