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hip hop junkies - dj woool lyrics

[ruste juxx]
ayo i smell death on the corner that i’m standing on
but like popcorn i get my poppin’ on
i brought heat to keep the ice on my arms
rubber grip on my arms
i need that money now, i ain’t pacin’ com
you ain’t heard, nerd? i’m about that street paper
f*ck a 9 to 5, i’m pulling hundred g capers
i got lost in las vegas with the dice checkers
hoe’s grabbing on the car doors
screaming “please take us”
cuz they heard i got the magic stick
but i’m hiv negative and magic sick
i keep hoe’s up in the tulley
never bust up in their belly
so 9 months later ain’t sh*t they could tell me, yo
[tspaz]
sh*t it could get crucial in here
motherf*cker don’t you know i will shoot you in here
this that heart of brooklyn, they recruit them from there
them thugs, them gangsters, them true pioneers
them n*ggas that will shoot you
watch you fall down the stairs
and they spit game in your baby mama ear
we’re ruthless, pop sh*t and end up toothless
leave it there, i’ll take it, i’m a bk booster
i don’t gotta pop guns, i’ll get your man to shoot ya
and have your mom kidnap, head & chest to a ruger
pull the trigger whole body turn oonka woonka
they think their team mad, i’m tspaz
don’t let them confuse ya

[chorus] samples x2
“n*ggas ain’t ready for the massacre”
“gotta pay the hard way”
“slackin’ on your mackin’ cuz raw’s what you lack”
“on that will of real sh*t, you’ll feel it, f*ck your ego”

[louieville sluggah]
not a battle rhyme writer or smooth flow inciter
i’m more like underground thunder sound striker
ya n*ggas come with battery bag bones
my n*ggas come with sci*fi hammers that’ll shatter your back bone
out here in l.a. getting my feti stack on
busters won’t catch me slipping without a strap on
known to leave a track blown
you’re known to copping 20 out of base spots
homie leave that crack alone
this is for them raw g’s
scheming on your raw ki’s
taking world wide tour g’s
weak n*ggas ain’t built for the brawling
bang a n*gga up like his murder was my calling
[foul]
look, stupid f*cks must lost their mind
if they think henny boy ain’t on his grind
i’m high as cheech, in the valley of cali
with my peeps, mobbin’ like we starving
keep, keep cummin on your girl’s stomach
i’ll give her a little taste
cuz she likes it in here face
it’s henny foul, ty rustee
also known as hood hip hop junkies
my boy got that good, puff, puff, pass
foul your game, f*cks only could reach trash, n*gga!
brooklyn! bank roll busters
come with the bread dawg, you’se another customer

[chorus] samples x2

- dj woool lyrics

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