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blood - son doobie lyrics

[sick jacken]
sick side

[dj fm]
{-scratching-}
“sick, jack-en” –] big duke

(verse 1)
[sick jacken]
my clique sticks tight cause my dawgs i grew with
some are life time, yo this ain’t, some new sh-t
i’m on some sick symphonies down for life sh-t
i like it
got my fam with me, my dawgs, i rock mics with
you might think it’s all business
what the f-ck is this
it’s music first, that’s why we got in this
cats from legit end corrupt when it
gets spread in this camp
that’s how we avoid the bad endin’
this player played enough, and it’s to know
this game ain’t right
i’m on my twenty eighth season
and still breathin’
got
cats on these streets that wanna see me bleedin’
but i
party and bullsh-t til it’s time for me to be leavin’
believe in no one outside the bloodline
all kinds of swine tryin’ to infiltrate mine
my mind’s ready for that
it’s deadly, in fact, my block
prepared me for that, it’s not steady of times

[son doobie]
yo, i’ll knock out, hop out, six hundred with the top down
hostile, i’ll rock out, .45 stick ya bars out
fall out, lucked out, ain’t worthy of a strong bout
stomp out, chop down, motherf-ckers just drop down (kaboom, boom, boom)
drop ya -ss, pull the drop out
locked down, pop out the trunk, yo, hold the spot down
watch y’all washed out
crews went the wrong route
calm down, i’ll knock out punks
with they palms out (ding, ding, ding, ding, ding)
first round, you get bombed out
i brought out, i shot out my double pump, yo, stop now
hot out, case the streets, wipe the blood, a hot town
lock out, pop, blaow, them n-ggas tryin’ to cop out
chop ya jaw, flip ya gun pound
goin’ all out
motherf-ckers, feel my call out
toss out, what now, make n-ggas wanna walk out
i’ll come out, dumb in twenty fours, with the stock out

hook: dj fm
{-scratching-}
“the facts
behind the violent acts” –] guru
{-scratching-}
“wild on the streets, i try to maintain” –] havoc
“all on the block, stays hot” –] inspectah deck

[verse 2: son doobie]
yo, i wake up, shake up, f-ck you and turn the pain up
i’ll scr-pe up, wait up, shot ya face, you got ate up
i change up, straight up, your motherf-ckers just gave up (187)
til them crack n-ggas pay up
i came up, way up, kick my feet, put my leg up
i blaze up, lace up bullets, hate
all you fake f-cks
wake up (wake up…)
bust a flame, why you lay up
i’ll aim a, .38 plate, yo, to your face, what (fee, fi, fo, fum)
the place
watch me taste, but
i made up, weight up
but them others took a paycut
raise up, ace up my sleeve, please, i came up
say what, i’ll save up cash and bring my case up (dun, dun-dun-dun, dun)
this puerto roc is caged up
i’ll make up
hey love, pull a gun, from my waist, what
they stuck
gave one
when you bring up my name up
i’ll weigh up the dope, chop the c0ke while they played them (played them…)

repeat hook

{-dj fm scratching-}

- son doobie lyrics

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