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Correct Outro (ft. D-12) Lyrics
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Obie Trice
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Correct Outro (ft. D-12)
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Lyrics:
Nah, nah we ain't done I love bein' hated, it's great it let's me know that I made it I wouldn't have it no other way I wouldn't trade it for the world Only lets me know that I'm loved by so many other motherfuckers That ain't you and is bomb, as you keep fuckin' with us We keep fuckin' you up and keep pullin' the rug from up under you And what's even more fucked up, is we enjoy what we're doin' So much there ain't nothin' that we love more Than Pullin' Your Skirts Up and exposin' you hoes so much People are startin' to wonder what's up with them Fuckin' one dough a man under rules Do on to others as you will have done under you So who the fuck you motherfuckers gonna run to When someone runs up with a mask and puts a gun to you You gonna ask yourself, how come your mans didn't enter That last round that he had in Curtis Jackson's ass While he had the chance You keep askin' us to keep it on wax but we can't This is past any rationalization We have captured national media attention Conversation is senseless, you can sense the tension start buildin' Soon as we enter the '106th & Park' building Someone's gonna get killed and I swear to God If someone so much as even touches one of my people I'll put a million on his head And you ain't got the funds to match or counteract it But I'd rather rap than get into this gangsta shit And it ain't because I'm a bitch It's because I ain't a bitch, I don't endanger people that I'm with I'm a general, I ain't Bush, I don't send my soldiers to war If I ain't there in the middle of the shit with 'em, so when I do get 'em Orders to storm your headquarters, you'll be fuckin' with a Fuckin' with a piece keeper See you a nigga that greet this lyrical meat cleaver That'll eat ya, niggaz wanna keep speakin', like it ain't even that deep I got heat that'll sweep a nigga street See I wouldn't fuck with me neither, only heaven can help ya I'll be searchin' for you longer than the 'Legend of Zelda' Without a failure, there's gonna be hell to tell the captain That a Bassett hound couldn't even smell ya body When I hide ya, I be on that mob shit You another Hoffa, under the Renaissance bitch You get bombed like Lebanon With my own tactic I snatch your head like one of Saddam's wigs Motherfucker, I'll handle you We can have it out on any Avenue An Average Man flipped into an animal Shoot out your mandibles, cannons and ammunition Reload with precision, nigga know the mechanicals Break a pistol down, you should see them handles The street taught the child, no read up manuals Pushin' crack vows, young Nino Brown Chasin' green is the dream, when you're young and brown Bound to be a problem child, look what I'm involved in now A 'Dozen Dirty' niggaz and they all get down Dissolve any problem that enlarge with ours When revolvers we said, "All men get out" C'mon While your punchin' and tacklin' punks I'm handlin' chumps, packin' a pump That's longer than the elephant trunk On the streets I'm a beast, I feast upon the weak So speak beef, I'll shoot you and scream "increase the peace" A monster, pistol packin' pushin' niggaz off they Hondas Stomp ya, get it crackin', yankin' bitches for they ganja Sneaky as fuck, I don't think mama beat me enough When she was sleep and stuff, I was stealin' the keys to the truck Shut the fuck up, before you end up dead in the dump truck Or in the streets takin' a nap, bleedin' and lumped up Who want what like M. Bleek, with this heat if you ten deep Then fuck it, it will be ten sleepin' Don't muscle with my a land ski, don't tustle with my hand speed Clutch your burner, bust it and watch your man bleed We ferocious, toast no holsters Approach us, throw heat straight from the shoulders We the soldiers, y'all the youngsters Youngsters lungs puncture, dead in the dumpster Upstairs the Munster, hand full of drama You scared of the drama, bomber the monster I'm back nigga, I reappear Shoot like, you ain't seein' clear Blackness, carcass covered with cat fish We murkers with no purpose other than practice There's three things I hate, liars, fakes and cheaters Alcoholics, s***s and fuckin' wife beaters A gat that describes my life I don't even know who song this is Obie Trice Bitch, Bizarre don't give a fuck about no hip hop At my release party in a pink tank top and Reebok This Ja Rule beef I ain't gettin' in I'll need an are & B singer to sing at my wedding I turn your face into a fuckin' meat patty I'll fuck your mommy and go fishin' with your granny I'll shit On You, I'll pee on are. Kelly too This is Bizarre, see you, 'Devil's Night 2'
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