Mr. Serv-On - Woof! lyrics correction

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[Mac] 
No Limit black sheep played the back seat for months 
Stayed away from the Tanqueray bitches and blunts 
Still Mac nigga ain't nothin' changed 
Got the rings and the gold chains 
Now bitches want to know my whole name 
I penetrate em then I disintegrate em 
I let the next nigga date em 'cause I don't hate em 
I spit voodoo to the most hard to get hoes 
And at the end of the night, I rippin' off clothes 
You fuckin' with the realest, from lyrical spillers 
To killers and dealers and cap peelers, and street guerrillas 
From villains to chillers, we made millions 
And paid killers to protect scrilla 
So what the fuck you talk about winners? 
You hear that word camouflage when you hear my name 
I represent the shell shocked 'cause it's in my veins 
(No Limit soldier) is on my left arm, I took it in blood 
Throw your hood up if you a thug 
And all them niggas say

[Chorus: Mac] 
You see a soldier on the streets holler 
You hear them soldiers on them beats holler 
Every time them soldiers speak holler

[Kane and Abel] 
Load your weapons, grab your gats 
We sprinkle daily verbs over tracks 
Hit the chest like heart attacks 
When my lyrical hammer cock back 
And leave bullet holes in your Bourbons and 'Lacs 
The only thing we give them hoes is a dick and a smack 
Gangstafied Kane and Abel you know the camouflage assassin 
Blastin' and mashin', kidnappin' and head bashin' 
Razor blade slashin', the endo blunt passin' 
For the cash and, woah it's bout to happen 
What you want (?) ugly with that 223 
Hit em up in 3-d, now it's banned from TV 
Niggas playa hated, I sure hated 
Spark the weed, cremated 
See this game, we regulated

[Mr. Serv-On] 
Nigga, you know me 
The nigga that spell everything out? (nah) 
The nigga that'll run through your motherfuckin' set and bang 
your hoe motherfuckin' out (Fuck yeah nigga) 
The nigga that's catchin these niggas and beatin em down 
'cause they wearin' Tanks, they don't know what the fuck it mean 
Nigga, that's the fuck, that's about punchin' your fuckin' mouth 
The nigga that'll tear the club up 
Nigga, I don't give a fuck if you bangin' or slangin' 
Nigga when I put this Tank up nigga you get rowdy as the fuck 
But if you think I was gonna leave this motherfucker without 
spellin' a line 
K-L you done lost your motherfuckin' mind 
Stop the track 'cause these niggas don't know about my click black 
I down with the M to the A to the see 
It's the S to the E to the are to the V 
Fuckin' with the T to the A to the N to the K 
And when I come through motherfucker and I raise my Tank up high 
You best believe some a you coward motherfuckers goin' die

[Chorus]

[Big Ed] 
Nigga what I claim? 
Nigga I claim true! 
I hang with niggas that's killers with true tattoos 
I got my name Big Ed from what I put between hips 
I got my name Assassin from the way I empty out clips 
Wear the No Limit soldier, thuggin' at heart 
Hittin' niggas with throw aways when I toss em I break em apart 
Niggas get your guns up if you rowdy 
And when Assassin hit the stores, buy the album if you bout it 
bout it

[Snoop Dogg] 
Rowdy gangsta in this motherfucker, loco 
So I can come through and keep it true 
and do what the fuck I must 
I bust, I keep it true from the 'ginnin 
Snoop Dogg, the representer from Long Beach city 
A true tank dog, bank y'all in y'all face 
If y'all try to come close, y'all can't run this race 
I place my self above the stack 
With my homeboys Mac and sack you fact, we strap for strap 
We got your back, don't even flip out or trip out 
Or dip out, these niggas lookin' at me strange 
My game to maintain, I let it go, I sell it don't tell it 
y'all can't touch it motherfucker, or bail it, for real

[Mia X] 
Biggest mama, drama two guns here I come 
Put down for my last son, the camouflaged one 
Mac the don, get your shine on 'cause it's your time 
And I'ma get my rhyme on and spit like nine 
Cocked nine millimeters the ghetto diva 
Mia X-rated, golden platinum plated 
Face it, when they hear me on the K-L track 
All them niggas grab they head and jump back 
Hollin' whoa 'cause it's goin' down like lips to dick 
I'm so tight I make you bitches never want to see the mic 
And spit, the matter lesson rhymes next to mine 
I'm mama superior, you hoes is fearin' the 
Lyrical warfare I exhale 
Some fake bitches like you name is Mel 
Battle anybody, hip hop or glock 
On true I'ma close your shop, woah

Correct Woof! Lyrics