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Full Blooded
Popularity ยท Low
๐Ÿ‡ฌ๐Ÿ‡ง English ยท Original

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Lyrics

I'm trippin' Yeah, hah No Limit, baby Know what I'm sayin' Soldier type shit Know what I'm sayin' All the mothafuckin' countdowns at the bottom We gon' hit 'em up like the shit Mothafuckin' West Coast Mac-10, TEC-9, Tre-8, to the AK 47, M-16, 4-5 4-4, M-3-0 to the deuce-deuce Countdowns at the bottom Mac-10, TEC-9, Tre-8, to the AK 47, M-16, 4-5 4-4, M-3-0 to the deuce-deuce Countdowns at the bottom There they go, blast Hundred cats shattered the back glass Niggas just cover the dash, damn niggas smashed the gas Ride fast, I just smoked his ass Them niggas thought about another half a block and crashed I can't have no nigga lookin' for my ass Wanna pursue me, gonna do me in to get my cash I make 'em feel a fire burn, you can park When you see me at the streets, I'm pulled up just backin' the park Givin' up, I got to have it, I nabbed it for pleasure Picture me in a daze, thinkin' of ways to get paid Hard times got me goin' through a phase I'm houndin' and mashin', covered up in black Livin' like an immortal figure, finger locked on the trigger Better guard your grill, you don't know my kind, nigga Off top, I gotta have it, I ain't gon' have it no other way Houndin' is my nature, I'm full of that fire I'm 'bout to trigger play D.O.A Initials be known as a phantom, try your luck, dare to cut When you come into the zone, you just a sittin' duck Feathers plucked, it's buck or get bucked Military minded, warden slip and get stuck Play pussy, get fucked, play role, but I get more dough Mac-10, TEC-9, Tre-8, to the AK 47, M-16, 4-5 4-4, M-3-0 to the deuce-deuce Countdowns at the bottom Mac-10, TEC-9, Tre-8, to the AK 47, M-16, 4-5 4-4, M-3-0 to the deuce-deuce Countdowns at the bottom 5, 4, 3, 2 Mothafuckin' 1 Bathgate, the most wanted with a gun Take a gangsta like me to the grave before I do fed time The family rallies warned me for nefarious crimes I bust nine, so I don't give a fuck about dyin' I put that on my son, I'ma ride, it's redrum From the West to the Southside I'm leavin' mothafuckers dead with they mouth wide Chillin' on the spot, it was hot That nigga 22 had a bundle that he had to run off See, he just got plugged by that nigga 38 Who gave him thirty grams for the price he paid A straight zip of 'caine for four-fifty Told him he could have that action if he keep fuckin' with him Then AP-9 pulled up Slidin' with his killer Mac-10 and a 6-7 nut Bumpin' hella hard with 15's Can of Brandywine and peanut butter on triple gold zeens Told Tre-8 he at the cut 'Cause it's like hook up or cook up or get lit up See, they was grindin' for this baller AK A nigga that was known to have you whacked if you don't buy his yay They burnt Vogues on gold to the spot Snatched up AR-15 and his little cousin Glock So they all came strapped See, 38 was short-stoppin', it was time to peel his cap They gaffled up a bucket so they hit Meanwhile, 38 was at the 'tel gettin' a dig with the nina bitch Mac-10, TEC-9, Tre-8, to the AK 47, M-16, 4-5 4-4, M-3-0 to the deuce-deuce Countdowns at the bottom Mac-10, TEC-9, Tre-8, to the AK 47, M-16, 4-5 4-4, M-3-0 to the deuce-deuce Countdowns at the bottom