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Correct Comin' At Cha Lyrics
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Tef
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Correct Comin' At Cha
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[Intro:] Uh Yeah! Primo Big money cow My man Pos M. O. P. First Family Ya know I'm go Street shit Yo! [Verse:] Open your eyes bitch, The hardest thing to accomplish is convincing the world I didn't exist (Holy shit!) Drama, blazing a 4. 5 blama raised to uphold my honor Who don't respect me? Death be the b-k black Joe Pesci Words to 3 ways to dead beat Niggas got beef, to break some I convert the whole concrete jungle in a animal kingdom Shit the way I figure it You only being called a Ruff Ryder Cause you'll be all over motherfuckers dick You motherfucking coward You ain't got siss enough to realize the niggas I Browns with Blow holes in your houses Go ahead and put ya foot in ya mouth Shit gets down and dirty I starts shitting niggas with hoods in ya house And I'ma be the last man standing on the block poppin of a mad-ass cannon Bitch we on the planet [Chorus: scratched] (We comin' at cha) (Killing 'em dead) (Whatever the cause of this) (I bring the pain) (We comin' at cha) (Killing 'em dead) (Whatever the cause of this) [Verse 2:] I got a good mind to smack you Back you down and clap you For real my skills the steel is factual I could do drop, duck and roll But when I hop pop a lot c*** buck and blow you got bust into God damn you I ain't got enough money to hire hitmen So I do my shit manual I'm a hands-on nigga who don't mind gettin' my hands dirty It's hard work, but my squad is worthy And when we get it we gonna keep it In this game we the best kept secret And double niggas is the only niggas teph creep with You know how thugs do We block the block tryin avoid the avoid the cop Packin mags with muzzle And it really ain't a problem To let niggas get richer than we rob 'em And put 'em in a obituary column We real thugs with dangerous minds And a track record a mile long Fuck commiting a-hideous crime [Chorus: scratched x2] [Verse 3:] See I'm one of them heistmen In a car poppin mob-deep guns under the carseat Driving without a lisence Fucking with hoodrats Niggas send me out of bounds somewhere uptown And wonder where the rest of my wolves at? Whoever I roam with, whether I'm alone shit Just know I'm Brownsville bound whenever I get home-sick Whether alone or we creeped together We keep peeped tucked under the lever But to hold the streets forever! See I was hand picked The drawn steel would lock everything from the saw-mill to fair wind Motherfucker it's a raw deal New York is up for grant y'all I bust ya last nut off And ya about to get ya power shut off When the clock strikes 12 I'm a pop like 12 And the niggas on ya block might tell that they see ya Little nigga running down the street Dumpin the 3 time 3 millimeter Holler and freeing me out [Chorus: scratched x2]
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