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lirik lagu don’t fuck with us – john cena

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[john cena]
we keep it hoppin like the cars with the shocks
we spittin heat on your block
we new to the game, but runnin the spot
numbin your knot, with b-sslines that’ll make ya neck break
this rook’ll take your queen and put ya king in checkmate
open your mind without makin ya meditate
we real champs; y’all just featherweight
time to get it straight, i push your wig back
crew loaded up with extra bread like a big mac
beefin with us? we’re leavin you face down
stompin b-tch rappers like i’m straight outta a-town
runnin the playground like it was a track meet
shoes on the whip that be bigger than shaq’s feet
we into big things, bank account’s overgrown
all types of cheese – swiss, cheddar, provolone
guaranteed to burn wax like candles
track hittin hard to the head like shots of jack daniels

[chorus 2x: john cena]
y’all, b-tch, crews, don’t wanna f-ck with us
y’all bound, to, lose, another one bites the dust

[tha trademarc]
it’s trademarc the truth, laid back, aloof
i’m god, as if you needed some proof
you ain’t hard i can see it on you, i need a roof
f-ck a droptop, crop if i’m creepin on you
click-clack nickelback knickknacks if you got heaters on you
spittin back live rounders, with five pounders
if we meetin on two, i put a beatin on you
your sound’s tired buddy, that’s why i’m sleepin on you
we lean back in the ride, with cream stackin the rawhide
the sound of god slide with a raw vibe
straight military camel clothes ash brown boots
so sick, i’ve been handlin flows, since enamel was gold tooth
and branded by low
you cold f-ck like eskimo hoes at 7 below
you slow, you be the last to think
my hands seen more f-ckin dirt than bathroom sinks

[chorus]

[john cena]
i got punks, dumps and switches, dump chumpses b-tches
we feed you to the sharks, you can sleep with the fishes
clean you like dishes but i ain’t no busboy
you ain’t family, you ain’t earnin my trust boy
seen too many b-tches that’ll double cross ya
we bring more drama than the laker roster
get the click p-ssed, ain’t n-body can save ya
throw heat without lookin like fernando valenzuela

[tha trademarc]
marc predka’s the name, the rest of you lame
i’m ego drivin, seen with different women, every size and frame
i refine my game by f-ckin famous b-tches
but it’s all the same, it’s just ex to the next
for s-x or brain, misses or mrs.
married or not, my game don’t stop
it’s cars bars bonds and stocks you ain’t see my flow
y’all are small-time suckers like a knee-high hoe

[chorus]

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