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threat - 4-deep lyrics
let it rain, let it drip, d-mn them n-ggas tripped
on the turf, they gotta get us work
we know where you stay, the homies don’t play
you knew the consequences now your -ss is hoppin fences
tryin to get away from the ak spray in the broad day
now they cross us out and put a k
i’m still pdk!ller, cause if you ain’t my friend
youse a foe, and i’mma let you know that i’m from
that big bad mad–ss westside numero uno
south central, is ill mental
uhh, and all these new tribes tryin to hoo-ride
we can’t be eighty-six, cause we from sixty-nine
it’s just a fifteen minus ten with the s on the end
for life, so do what you like
but you better bomb first with the sleeper, uhh
cause i’mma blow you out your converse sneakers-ah, so surprise!
punk is the ride, punk
you thought your homey next to you made it to his trunk, uhh
light ’em up like a candle, that’s right
the scandal, vandal handle mines like a man doe
creep by the police, rollin fo’ deep
playin low, cause i know they gon’ stretch us if they catch us
up to chiffaro(?) and away we go
and i bet n0body bet’ not get no less than the next
fo’ n-ggas, three straps, where these hoes at?
lookin for some trouble just bust a n-gga bubble
they wanna unite, but the system’s too tight, so
let these n-ggas know what that south central like
don’t flag no flag cause all that’s drag
stay close to my holster had enough of these busters
teach ’em not to f-ck with the young buck
with the dum dum tips, that’s right, they hurt like a b-tch
suspects headin west, l.a. zoo next exit
d-mn right baby, i s-x it like i flex it
up jump the boogie got busy with them enemies
laugh when we serve ’em, hit the corner swervin
headin down the backstreets, bumpin black sheep
stop and get a quart went home and took my -ss to sleep
{-clip loads-, -test shots fired-} can’t sleep
cause n-ggas don’t know how to act like they momma’s on crack
sh-t they got so bad {-car peels-} much worse than all these he-rs-s
death toll went up crazy since 1980
hip-hop, you don’t stop, close up shop
or get the rope with the slipknot
hear the tick-tock wake your -ss up knock knock who is it?
the big bad wolf come to pay your -ss a visit
count to fifteen, i’m hearin si-rens
count to fifteen again more si-rens
when will it cease they say everyday
not ’til the mission is complete, rescued by the fleet
from this desert storm, i can see his h-rns of
usin heavy metal like the rest of these devils
all these white sheets need they -ss be tied
to the bumper, and drug down the street fo’ deep
{-scratched: “one spot on to the next spot”}
fo’ deep.. fo’ deep..
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