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tell me whatcha gonna do - dj sound lyrics

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[intro: kee*wee, madmaine, d tha unknown]

shoot*, shoot*, shoot his ass down to the concrete

[verse 1: player1]
brothers is dropping it off, and now it’s mine, ho
showing off that you got a lot of dough, pulling out a fat bankroll
then i put the snub nose to your f*cking nose, like a goin*on*a*stang pro
player1 is going out for the motherf*cking nine*four
got to say a rhyme, ho, after i do my time though
seven months in jail, sittin in the cell with player2, partner in crime, bro
rob us for a kilo, a motherf*cking no*no
we blasting at your ass, hanging out my sunroof window
and yelling at you that this is player1, ho
unloading on that b*tch, and then i’m riding off in the bronco
blood your body, and cut your f*cking knee and feet
laying on the concrete, rolling down the street
little priest is packing heat, b*tch
[chorus: kee*wee, madmaine, d tha unknown]

shoot*, shoot*, shoot his ass down to the concrete

[verse 2: bl**dybones]
got my glock*nine, c*ck mine, pop a n*gga, drop time
shoot his ass to the floor, and rob him for every dime
i thought you already knew? i guess you don’t really know
we rob you like a ho, split your wig, then we split your dough
so it don’t even do no good to ball off, player1’s got the sawed*off, and will blow your ass off
n*ggas that be splurgin’, talking sh*t, just keep bragging
they’ll be putting your ass together, in the back of the meat wagon
yeah, this is player2, also known as bl**dybones
i cl!ck like a nine in my thoughts because my mind gone
leaving n*ggas on the curb, coughing up blood at me
the hollow point tips in the clip, so, baby, nigs can’t even f*ck with me

[chorus: kee*wee]

shoot*, shoot*, shoot his ass down to the concrete

shoot*, shoot*, shoot his ass down to the concrete
[verse 3: player1]
player1 is on a mean one, toting a machine gun
ready to spray, but you can’t tell because i just seem calm, cool and collected
caught you unexpected, bullets up in that “s”
on your big chest, for bringing your ass to ridgecrest
i walk off, stalk off, toting my f*cking yalk off, b*tch, ho
wrapping your body up in the sheet, and dumping you over the bridge into the mississippi
hiding out at ridge grove, kicking it with s.o.g, and little real come getting me high as h*ll
frayser cl!ck is getting thick, and the posse is getting bigger
you talking that sh*t, you getting your ass throwed in the river too
you n*ggas be needing to keep a player’s name out of your mouth, ho

[outro: kee*wee, madmaine, d tha unknown]

shoot*, shoot*
shoot*, shoot*, shoot his ass down to the concrete

(dj sound turntable scratching)

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