yeah i rob 2013 - mr. sisco lyrics
[verse 1: buddah jones]
now you f-cking with some n-ggas that’ll come kick in your door
put that pistol in your mouth and rape your b-tch right on the floor
this is what the f-ck you get if you mistake me for a ho
we don’t play that sh-t around my way in case you didn’t know
n-ggas grew up in the slums and we got nothing to lose
tie your -ss up by them strings on your motherf-cking shoes
i promise you my n-gga you won’t even make the news
cut your fingers off your d-ck and sn-tch your f-cking dentals too
now you n-ggas think you f-cking bigger
but not bigger than my trigger
talking all that f-cking sh-t and too geeked up off all that liquor
now you got a n-gga p-ssed
my pistol got the f-cking hiccups
light your -ss up like a swisher
t-shirt with your f-cking picture
f-ck you n-ggas talking it but how you got the phone
b-tch i’m chopping bodies up and letting ’em ride off in my trunk
and them cannons hit like 12’s the way them motherf-ckers thump
so before you step this way just make sure this is what you want
[verse 2: mr. sisco]
murder, murder, murder, murder
k!ll, k!ll, k!ll
f-cking with me, drag your -ss to the field, field, field
we keep it real, real, real
you a p-ssy with a deal
f-cking with us, you’ll get k!lled
and believe that we for real
i’m illuminati, dressed in all black for your -ss
black ski mask
black n-ggas jumping out that black van’
n-gga this is backlash from all you n-ggas talking trash
best believe we coming first, f-ck n-ggas coming last
switch the tempo with the quick fo’
when i’m spitting motherf-cker better get low
if he don’t wanna get ghost
make his crew comatose
sending shots to his head like a motherf-cking toast
if he don’t wanna roasted
better sit back and get toasted
n-gga we won’t go for the ho sh-t
cause f-ck n-gga we focused
no joking, b-tch i’m smoking
never slipping, always on my f-cking pimping
on my grind, gotta get it
you could be on fox missing
sn-tch your soul, like abortion
while i’m sipping on some tim hortons
blew it out of proportion
this is just a friendly warning
[verse 3: gabriel prentis]
n-gga get your -ssed robbed, f-cking with the mafia
talking all that talk my n-gga what the f-ck is stopping ya’
get ate up like tilapia, gun sound like the opera
all my n-ggas on the rise, they know us like we popular
beat your -ss with them hands, rob your -ss for them grands
hit up the weed man just to cop a couple grams
riding with my sword, n-gga make my day
if i see that you got what i want all you hear is the gauge
cl1ck clack, hands go up, give me that
all that, black mask with my goons
pap’ pap’, one wrong move, lay flat
on back, all black, in your tomb
not about that f-ck sh-t, all about them bucks b-tch
but i ain’t from milwaukee, better keep your sh-t tucked b-tch
just pulled another b&e
i’m off the weed and that o.e
d-mn i got the block hot, but my name ain’t weezy
better lock your door, cause tonight could be the night
get robbed for everything, including your life
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