lirik lagu woof! – fiend
[mac]
no limit black sheep played the back seat for months
stayed away from the tanqueray b-tches and blunts
still mac n-gga ain’t nothin’ changed
got the rings and the gold chains
now b-tches want to know my whole name
i penetrate em then i disintegrate em
i let the next n-gga 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 f-ckin’ with the realest, from lyrical spillers
to k!llers and dealers and cap peelers, and street guerrillas
from villains to chillers, we made millions
and paid k!llers to protect scrilla
so what the f-ck you talk about winners?
you hear that word camouflage when you hear my name
i represent the sh-ll 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 n-ggas 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 c-ck back
and leave bullet holes in your bourbons and ‘lacs
the only thing we give them hoes is a d-ck and a smack
gangstafied kane and abel you know the camouflage -ss-ssin
blastin’ and mashin’, kidnappin’ and head bashin’
razor blade slashin’, the endo blunt p-ssin’
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
n-ggas playa hated, i sure hated
spark the weed, cremated
see this game, we regulated
[mr. serv-on]
n-gga, you know me
the n-gga that spell everything out? (nah)
the n-gga that’ll run through your motherf-ckin’ set and bang
your hoe motherf-ckin’ out (f-ck yeah n-gga)
the n-gga that’s catchin these n-ggas and beatin em down
’cause they wearin’ tanks, they don’t know what the f-ck it mean
n-gga, that’s the f-ck, that’s about punchin’ your f-ckin’ mouth
the n-gga that’ll tear the club up
n-gga, i don’t give a f-ck if you bangin’ or slangin’
n-gga when i put this tank up n-gga you get rowdy as the f-ck
but if you think i was gonna leave this motherf-cker without
spellin’ a line
k-l you done lost your motherf-ckin’ mind
stop the track ’cause these n-ggas don’t know about my cl!ck 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
f-ckin’ with the t to the a to the n to the k
and when i come through motherf-cker and i raise my tank up high
you best believe some a you coward motherf-ckers goin’ die
[chorus]
[big ed]
n-gga what i claim?
n-gga i claim true!
i hang with n-ggas that’s k!llers with true tattoos
i got my name big ed from what i put between hips
i got my name -ss-ssin from the way i empty out clips
wear the no limit soldier, thuggin’ at heart
hittin’ n-ggas with throw aways when i toss em i break em apart
n-ggas get your guns up if you rowdy
and when -ss-ssin hit the stores, buy the album if you bout it
bout it
[snoop dogg]
rowdy gangsta in this motherf-cker, loco
so i can come through and keep it true
and do what the f-ck 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 n-ggas 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 motherf-cker, 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
c-cked nine millimeters the ghetto diva
mia x-rated, golden platinum plated
face it, when they hear me on the k-l track
all them n-ggas grab they head and jump back
hollin’ whoa ’cause it’s goin’ down like lips to d-ck
i’m so tight i make you b-tches 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 b-tches like you name is mel
battle anybody, hip hop or glock
on true i’ma close your shop, woah
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