don't fuck with us - john cena lyrics
we keep it hoppin’ like the cars with the shocks
we spittin’ heat on your block
we new to the game but runnin’ the spot
numbin’ your knot with b-ss lines that’ll make ya neck break
this rook’ll take your queen
and put ya king in checkmate
open your mind without makin’ ya meditate
we real champs, y’all just featherweight
time to get it straight, i push your wig back
crew loaded up with extra bread like a big mac
beefin’ with us? we’re leavin you face down
stompin’ b-tch rappers like i’m straight outta a-town
runnin’ the playground like it was a track meet
shoes on the whip that be bigger than shaq’s feet
we into big things, bank account’s overgrown
all types of cheese, swiss, cheddar, provolone
guaranteed to burn wax like candles
track hittin’ hard to the head like shots of jack daniels
y’all b-tch crews, don’t wanna f-ck with us
y’all bound to lose, another one bites the dust
y’all b-tch crews, don’t wanna f-ck with us
y’all bound to lose, another one bites the dust
it’s trademark the truth, laid back, aloof
i’m god, as if you needed some proof
you ain’t hard, i can see it on you, i need a roof
f-ck a droptop, crop if i’m creepin’ on you
click-clack, nickel back, knickknacks if you got heaters on you
spittin’ back live rounders, with five pounders
if we meetin’ on two, i put a beatin’ on you
your sound’s tired, buddy, that’s why i’m sleepin’ on you
we lean back in the ride with cream stackin’ the rawhide
the sound of god slide with a raw vibe
straight military camel clothes, ash brown boots
so sick, i’ve been handlin’ flows
since enamel was gold tooth and branded by low
you cold f-ck like eskimo hoes at seven below
you slow, you be the last to think
my hands seen more f-ckin’ dirt than bathroom sinks
y’all b-tch crews, don’t wanna f-ck with us
y’all bound to lose, another one bites the dust
y’all b-tch crews, don’t wanna f-ck with us
y’all bound to lose, another one bites the dust
i got punks, dumps and switches, dump chumpses b-tches
we feed you to the sharks, you can sleep with the fishes
clean you like dishes but i ain’t no busboy
you ain’t family, you ain’t earnin’ my trust, boy
seen too many b-tches that’ll double cross ya
we bring more drama than the laker roster
get the click p-ssed, ain’t n-body can save ya
throw heat without lookin’ like fernando valenzuela
marc predka’s the name, the rest of you lame
i’m ego drivin’, seen with different women, every size and frame
i refine my game by f-ckin’ famous b-tches
but it’s all the same, it’s just ex to the next
for s-x or brain, misses or mrs.
married or not, my game don’t stop
it’s cars bars bonds and stocks you ain’t see my flow
y’all are small-time suckers like a knee-high hoe
y’all b-tch crews, don’t wanna f-ck with us
y’all bound to lose, another one bites the dust
y’all b-tch crews, don’t wanna f-ck with us
y’all bound to lose, another one bites the dust
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