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swoop g - tha m.o.b. lyrics
[swoop g]
you can’t stop me, baby.
mobb sh-t
you can’t stop us, baby. [x2]
[verse 1: keek the sneek]
i put that on the… mobb
my here comes the warrior
heat from nailin him, yellin out the window when i’m bailin
what you sellin?
i need some zags, i’m ready to get keyed
juss a phase,
if n-gg-z go snag a zag, then we go sn-tch a sack of green
step back and let the heat go attack ’em, so we can see
cuz picture my faulty face, fill it up wit drank an clear the sp-ce
sicker than waco
so wicked yo d-ck will scratch an lay low
my folks get deep in yo dome plus roll up yo face an i say so
leave ’em dangled, severed an strangled
i put that on the mobb an my mobbin n-gg-z will lay low.
[verse 2: knuckle head]
they tryin to mug a n-gg-
tryin to put slugs on a n-gg-
but i’m lettin a n-gg- have it, catch this silly rabbit
what the f-ck??!!
whoooo got dropped?
what the f-ck??!!
yoooou got shot
i keep my gun on safety
cuz n-gg-z hate me
gotta retally me, yet they can’t penitrate me
or fade me
got shot two times, bullets grazed me
lable me a mental knuckle head, b-tch i’m crazy
the mobb slangs z’s like scarface on keys
rollin lexo’s an benzo’s sittin on gold d’s.
[verse 3: numskull]
i put that on the mobb
slob, or no p-ssy, i rock p-ss-es
an after i f-ck, i consider the cl-toris my p-ssy
so do the do b-tch, i figure that knuckle head an dru spit
(who you speakin on n-gg-??!!)
you b-tch
it’s swoop’s sh-t
day by day the blunt walk
hamps, chron-chron, hindu an drunk talk
i be the wall behind the heater
call me yo leader
makin n-gg-z go old school like dan sever
makin num, num inbetween ’em ain’t no thang
d-ck on hang, slang mo p-ssy then sunsets on one set can’t hang
bang-bang, love me to give me skrilla
hug me to give me lovely, mobb love killa, killa.
[chorus x3: krazy, luniz & swoop g]
[x2]
we mobb n-gg-
hooride n-gg-, we drop n-gg-z
you gettin mobbed n-gg-
i put that on the mobb n-gg-.
[verse 4: yukmouth]
uh, n-gg- any bottle drunken
x-o swallowed, pumpkin
head gettin
lead spittin an i’m hittin blunts an
the chefs h-ttin, on dubb members
my n-gg- num, s-s mean mug n-gg-z, ex-drug deala n-gg-z
who love hittaz (drink-a-lot)
he be the licksta
(smoke-a-lot) he be the the twista
like the movies, sock it to me
like rudy ray mode, or human tornado
n-gg- i’m groovy
break n-gg-z wit the hong-kong fuey, plus light n-gg-z up wit the uzi
i put that on the… paraph-n-li
i’m a keep the cristally in my belly
i touch mo bread then jelly
one snap like fonzarelli, make a b-tch sell me
p-ssy until it gets smelly, an then i’m finished.
[verse 5: bart]
got my pistol gripped tightly
make you do the right thang like spike lee
despite the
n-gg-z who be takin the m.o.b. lightly
it might be
another case of name loss
cuz game cost, for the n-gg- that stole my b-tter i’m a show you off
he coughed
i opened them lungs like primetine mist
f-ck wit a
forehead splitter, wit a clenched fist
dismissed
off the face of the planet
sank like t-tanic
boy don’t panic, i’m juss a sickaluffa skitzofrentic
f-ckin b-tches that be jockin oakland game
i ran it, never leave empty handed
an the hataz can’t stand it
but can’t stop it either
behind a 9 millimeter
i put that on the mobb you’ll be left on a machine greeter.
[verse 6: ager man]
n-gg-z wanna get they test on
better have they vest on
packin a clip full of teflon
leavin you n-gg-z stepped on
f-cked around an got crept on
slippin in his ‘stang
talkin bad about 3 times, i had to do my thang
mobb sh-t, wit a pistol grip
30 officers h-t, wit a clip
when you get stuck on yo door wit a $150 dolla kicks
an slappin that -ss juss like a b-tch
n-gg- f-ckin wit n-gg-z, don’t ya know
you best believe you f-ckin wit soldiers
that’ll chop that -ss up, roll in the cut like a-1 yola
a-g m-th- f-ckin e
got a glock an a 3-50
n-gg-z better hope like bob
that they don’t get robbed
f-ckin wit the mobb n-gg-.
[swoop g talking]
hold up n-gg-…. f-ck all you n-gg-z that ain’t wit this mobb sh-t. you
wit us or against us. success is the best revenge.
[chorus x2]
[verse 7: swoop g]
the mobb game got us n-gg-z brain hangin like wall paper
you shouldn’t have ran yo mouth about the mobb at all playa
all spraya
able to rip sh-t
an still eclipse spit, guess our heataz start to come in triplets
the oakland edition, where we was raised
an rolls m-th- f-ckaz up off the turf that didn’t belong
one phone call, to my roll dog
i have a roll call to finish
n-gg-z brought paraph-n-lia comin to get ya
they proper position
to chop ’em wit street sweepers an glocks
selection wit heataz, an sections to hectic to stop
like mad caulkin, an bad cops
an all this sh-t that can get yo -ss popped
or get yo -ss shot
i put that on
n-gg-z i rob wit in eastside california
pullin up an puttin the pistol on ya.
[verse 8: cydal]
paraph-n-lia to the mobb
we treat yo face like p-ssy, f-ck yo head
why did the world distort, potnaz deadly, warfares
this ‘sidal life has got me strapped an sayin, more prayers
been down on one knee, hopin that when the killa comes that he don’t gun
me
life is money
mind over matter until the death n-gg-
fo life
i had that p.m.o.b. written across my chest
i guess
the mental mandatory got me cleanin up blocks
for sh-tty n-gg-z like i’m in the janitorial business
after droppin a dime n-gg-z will mobb, many an all
when the bullet flys many will fall
til i die paraph-n-lia verse ’em all
t luni the first to call
i bet, as applied he-rs- an casket fo ’em all
as we mobb n-gg-.
[chorus: x2]
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