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styles p - y'all don't wanna fuck lyrics
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[styles]
my style’s louder than a stereo
fouler than the snake when i k!ll these f-ckin rappers
then show up at the burials
i don’t mean to worry y’all, but i want y’all gone and
this m-16 is the only way to hurry y’all
here’s my last proposition, i’m treatin rap like crack
if i don’t sell the most, i gotta k!ll the compet-tion
don’t take it personal
gotta go to jail and if i come back and don’t have my cash
then i’m hurtin you
got a business gun, wit industry bullets
when it hit you motherf-cker guaranteed it be jerkin you
rings is so my contact will break up your man
i’m a gentleman, my contract’s a shake of a hand
i make it hard so, only god could wake up your man
cuz i do things the don way
it’s paniro the ghost, goodfella like, f-cking jim conway
leave no evidence
f-ck a dead man, when i can leave off the scene wit dead presidents
what, motherf-cker, yeah
[hook: styles and m.o.p.]
don’t you ever try to f-ck wit m.o.p. and styles
buckah-buckah-bu-bucka-bu-bucka-bucka-blaow!!!
this is for the hood and n-ggas that’s wild
buckah-buckah-bu-bucka-bu-bucka-bucka-blaow!!!
if you ’bout to die or you blowin the trial
buckah-buckah-bu-bucka-bu-bucka-bucka-blaow!!!
we’re gangsta -ss n-ggas that been flowin awhile
buckah-buckah-bu-bucka-bu-bucka-bucka-blaow!!!
[billy danze]
ayo let’s do it for the hood
where there’s alotta homicides at
where k!llers ride at, and og’s reside at
it’s rugged son, i love it son i see it every day
f-ck that, we’ll find another way to play
so don’t mistake me for no rap artist
missin old dude is from the old school
he abide by the old rules
and our pro-tools, is 38 longs
the crime rate will inflate, and the murder rate is strong
how could we get along
and you doing this underhanded f-ggot sh-t, you f-ggot b-tch
we gotta get you gone, [chapter one]
william danze songs
all disloyal guys should be shot in they back
once, and left paralyzed [game over now]
you gon change me how
what you thought would happen
when they chained me to fame and styles
you ask in the hood about it, all it can be is
l! m! o! o! x! p! motherf-cker!
[fame]
you keep thinkin when i flow pa, it’s a wrap
but when your -ss get beat wit a crowbar, it’s a wrap
for real, we straight thug it
read my palms, you see more chapters than l. ron hubbard
huh, we done dealt more drugs than genovese
made dope fiends outta school princ-p-ls and deans
now they all f-cked up, career finished
got they -ss noddin in front of the methodon clinics
we thug it all day, but it ain’t the henny in me
it’s that brownsville sh-t wit a splash of trinny in me
all i need is a hammer, and a clip load
i’ll stomp, do whatever, state, borough, zip code
it’s the m.o.p.! mashin through your ghetto
rippin heavy metal, [we ruff ryde] wit paniro
listen up, y’all better respect the criminal sh-t of these og’s
what’s poppin n-gga
[hook]
[styles]
we can beef i don’t give a f-ck
cuz if you k!ll me, i got n-ggas that’ll bend up your son
it’s the world’s most gutterest
paniro the ghost, they thought of me when they invented the gun
to tell the truth i prefer the knife
cuz he physical n-gga
i go in your chest i show you how to murder right
it’s deep, i’mma k!ll your mother
and i don’t care if i die
cuz all that mean is that i gonna join my little brother
dog, i had a hard life
and i’m in love with the pain
thug in the game wit heroin and hard white
back to the guns the way i squeeze off threes off
leave a hole in your stomach, take a n-gga knees off
face gets splattered around, too many cops for the glock
f-ck it dog, then i’m battin you down
don’t you ask me what’s happenin now
this ain’t a rerun, n-ggas see p gun, i’m clappin you clowns, what
you don’t wanna touch this
it’s paniro the ghost, goodfella like f-cking jim conway
you don’t wanna touch this
it’s lil fizzy wit that brownsville sh-t and splash of trinny in me
you don’t wanna touch this
bill, 38 long, the crime rate will inflate and the murder rate is strong
you don’t wanna touch this
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