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niggas git dealt wit - south central cartel lyrics

[ young prod ]
yeah
puttin it down like this, b-tch
s.c.c. back at yo -ss, n-gg-
f-ck everybody
that’s real

[ verse 1: young prod ]
rides, from my six-fo’ to my lex-o
bumpin, what would you do if you knew, loc
how to put a lick down? busta, you’se a amateur
you get scared when i glare, imagine if if i stare at ya
then you would have to test yo pro-keds
cause i done drew down and bust a cap at your forehead
so go ‘head and jet, but let your big homie know
if he got static the automatics is ready-go
and what i bang i claim real to the gee
the cartel’s cavi, so can we calculate the c
as we be dumpin, locin as we slide on the d’s
and we slip the clips to the b.g.
young p puts it down and ain’t nothing changin
i’m aimin heat at your dome cause it’s gangsta
bustas better raise up off the blocks when we ride
cause glocks leave n-gg-s sh-ll-shocked and they die

[ chorus ]
o.g.’s get smoked
b.b.’s get loced
with straps
so perhaps
n-gg-s get dealt with
if caps get peeled and n-gg-s get served
with straps
so perhaps
n-gg-s get dealt with

[ verse 2: havikk the rhime son ]
i’m up early in the mornin, creasin my karl kani’s, i’m saggin
i reach for my heat, yeah, that .44 magnum
it’s time to regulate your block, you get twisted
i’m easin through your -ss like a d-ck, now it’s on, b-tch
welcome to the i’ll sh-t where n-gg-s collapse in anger
provokes the rhime son to release one out of the chamber
crossin out our sh-t in the studio, foolio, you panic
and get your -ss sunk like the t-tanic
(? ) up the cavi, proceedin to cause the ruckus
meditate with the evil and the devil couldn’t touch us
it’s prode’je and rhime son, rhime son and prode’je
extendin like a clip, hittin dips, no sense in tryin me
ain’t no love, focus on the realest
no future in your frontin cause you m-th-f-ckas feel this
it’s s.c.c. and mouthpiece, so behold another coma
i’m in your f-ckin lung like pneumonia

[ chorus ]

[ verse 3: prode’je ]
f-ckin with the realer body-bag-filler-type of n-gg-s
killers that have you n-gg-s chockin on your livers
s.c. could never play the back so the wack i confronted
c-cked the 12-guage and head-hunted
had to be a flea cause you f-ckin with that gee
hav’s got the s, prod’s got the c.c.
gettin wreck, fools, you get dealth with
like them n-gg-s mobb deep said: you be ‘shook’ like a earthquake
studio gees i refuse to see
when 87 times n-gg-s was accused to g
of bein foulish, but i’ma leave you swoll’ like a callous
cancelled like dallas, knock yo -ss off balance
i put my foot up in that -ss, bro, you didn’t know
that i can bust your sh-t like a pimple
and when it’s over you be dead, gee
i got your number
and sucker–ss n-gg-s goin under

[ chorus ]

[ prode’je ]
that’s right, m-th-f-cka
nineteen-m-th-f-ckin-ninety-six
that s with them 2 c’s is gettin wreck on that -ss
finna dig a foot off in yo m-th-f-ckin -ss, n-gg-
punk m-th-f-ckas thought we couldn’t come back with that real sh-t
with that shoot-to-kill sh-t
havikk the m-th-f-ckin rhime son, mouthpiece and prode’je
finna break all you m-th-f-ckas down
that’s right
finna break all you m-th-f-ckas down
cause you punk–ss n-gg-s get dealt with

- south central cartel lyrics

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