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comin' hard - evil pimp lyrics

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[intro]
bury you in my backyard (repeated)

[hook]
bury you in my backyard, all you hoes are comin’ hard, run upon you busta-b-tches, talkin’ sh-t and pull your car, (6×)

[evil pimp]
hangin’ in the projects with my brothes smokin’ bud, n-gga walked at me i can tell that he a thug, now he ain’t, now get down, get to ruggin’, when the cold concrete, we drop it off slow, n-gga wait afraid, the end of chillin’ on the street, feelin’ kinda hungry, hit the crib so i can eat, phone is now ringin’, this n-gga got ana, he said when he see me, my -ss he will beat, n-gga we can handle this and do the sh-t quick, hit ya one time make you do a backflip, take that sh-t off and see, reasons that me you realize so suggest that you b-tton your lip, gonna know busted, better catch up with your kind, four makes you bout to catch up, when i load the nine, you afraid to play, i don’t need to sneak up, from behind, on ya n-gga when i’m cruisin’ for a crime, k!ll ya f-ckin’ busta, we the evil gonna do, come up with the nine, blast you right up out shoe, n-ggas i head for your ma’me, but i shoot her da’da hoe afterword, not ever cool, walkin’ down the block, with a gun that pants, puffin’ on a blunt, i’m a dark helpin’ hand, found ya slippin’, bullet rippin’, try to pull your gun, but i shoot ya five times, do you even get the chance, cuz you runnin’ naked in the street like a maze, locked in my bas-m-nt to torture you for days, you’re a big bottle mouth, quick made to see help, cuz she said “no helpin’ me, i am too crazed,” sneak inside your house then i pimp f-ck a rule, blasted out your shoes so what you gonna do, nine c-cked, to yo dome, b-tch, play it cool…

[hook]
bury you in my backyard, all you hoes are comin’ hard, run upon you busta-b-tches, talkin’ sh-t and pull your car, (4×)

[lady dead]
lady dead is in this b-tch, oh you better get it right, got the mask, over my grid, and you know i rap tight, bury sucka bustas in my m-th-f-ckin’ burial plot, b-tch i’ll blow your -ss, off think i’m playin’ but i’m not, grab the gauge, into your place, blast you like some stereo b-ss, then i’ll take a p-ss right on your m-th-f-ckin’ burial grave, you gon’ see i k!ll’em off, been stompin’ in stiletto pumps, put five shots in though yo dome, and lock you in must in my trunk, lady dead don’t give no f-ck, oh don’t push or test your luck, shoot you like it’s huntin’ season, cuz i’m down to hunt some duck, little koop, play ya tape, smoke’em with a g-l-o-c-k, gun to play this stick up boy and show these lames that dead don’t play, ridin’ through south memphis in a steamer, let’s go get this punk, grab his -ss, and m-ffle his mouth, this mossberg about to shut them up, nothin’ to it, let’s go do it, that’s the way this b-tch gets down, drinkin’ on some crown, clown, b-tch don’t make no f-ckin’ sound

[hook/outro]
bury you in my backyard, all you hoes are comin’ hard, run upon you busta-b-tches, talkin’ sh-t and pull your car, (fade out)

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