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they can't - mo3 lyrics

[intro]
(splurgethegod made another one)
n*gga i’m cutthroat, on b jizzle, n*gga
f*ck you talking ’bout?
(woah*oh, oh)
trey walk ’em down
gang, gang

[verse 1]
hit us up, out on a n*gga, get him outta here
we hit him by his head
prosecuted on my ho name (d*mn)
duckin’ them b*tches, tryna get wit ’em
yeah, i gotta be swift
load up the clips, finish they whole gang
i ain’t got no shame
thinkin’ about my enemy when i be reminiscin’ ’bout lil’ bubba, ho, they gotta die (they gotta die)
i’m tryna send all of them b*tches to the afterlife
get crucified with this choppa then go chop to christ
(they getting wacked tonight)
body for body, call it, i got it
it’s not a lot of n*ggas who don’t know better (nah)
respect the murderer, gun power
we k!ll every n*gga standing in front of us
b*tch you dancing with a daredevil, .38 special
nothing but k!ller tactics like i’m trained for the marines
i got a problem, i be on somethin’
’cause every time i see the opps, i get excited like pass me that .30
spin around, i’m finna smoke one (baow)
i’m the holy one
i’ll put a whole in somethin’
dolo, i don’t need a gang
i be lurking, huh (lurking, huh)
police in my house wanna search for guns
and yeah i still got all my dirty ones (what?)
disrespect on the gang, you get flipped
you can tell the way i look, i make ’em scared
oh you nervous, huh?
i make ’em shut the f*ck up if he ain’t tryna step (shh)
he keep playing and i tell him get a shirt or somethin’
fill the churches up (yeah)
tell ’em all i’ma k!ll ’em
i don’t need a hitta, just all my gorillas (nah)
father forgive me but i gotta take ’em
send ’em to they maker
ooh, i’m too official (baow)
talk to the devil for days, he told me to pray (baow)
he’ll put a n*gga on a picture
ya whole neighborhood wearing them shirts
talking about how they love you and miss you, yeah
[pre*chorus]
i’m that sto’ on the corner (corner)
i’m that crack in the pot (all the way)
i’m that strap that you got (all the way)
i’m the one that they don’t wanna— (nah*ah*ah*ah)
cross the line, when it’s time to sling that iron (baow)
(why, i*i*i*i)

[chorus]
they can’t f*ck with me (can’t f*ck with me)
can’t f*ck with me (can’t f*ck with me)
can’t f*ck with me (can’t f*ck with me)
they can’t f*ck with me (can’t f*ck with me)
can’t f*ck with me (why, i*i*i*i)
can’t f*ck with me (oh, uh*uh)
can’t f*ck with me (why, i*i*i*i)

[verse 2]
taliban, i’m the murder man
this the klan, think you heard of them
radio tripping, don’t wanna give me a chance
hitters be lurking, and ain’t scared of them
i can do the murder dance
store that beretta run under my sweater, run up a devil, tell’ em that it’s rock*a*bye
my hittas thinkin’ like it’s lethal
pull up on side of the car, talkin’ to the reaper
my young n*gga get ’em gone, talkin’ for a feature
tell’ them n*ggas it’s murder whenever i catch
want a problem in they section, hit us, going extra, yeah
my gorillas they gon’ fetch ’em, yeah
and that choppa, it got extra legs
caught a opp on the freeway, did him dirty, left him brain dead
when i jump in that water, it rain man
b*tch i’m cutthroat, this gangland (on gang)
[pre*chorus]
i’m that sto’ on the corner (corner)
i’m that crack in the pot (all the way)
i’m that strap that you got (all the way)
i’m the one that they don’t wanna— (nah*ah*ah*ah)
cross the line, when it’s time to sling that iron (baow)
(why, i*i*i*i)

- mo3 lyrics

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