lirik lagu tiger unit – skilla baby
[intro]
huh?
(huh?)
naw for real, though (naw for real)
i heard n*ggas dyin’ on the westside, they sayin’ it was me
ayy, hmm
[chorus]
n*ggas dyin’ on the westside, they sayin’ it was me
man, leave that sh*t in the streets, keep it g
when he die, you can claim the body, just don’t come to me
gave my n*gga a few racks, but he’ll do that sh*t for free
’cause i’ll do that sh*t for him, ’cause he’ll do that sh*t for me
i’m a beast
we controlled sh*t on the westside and the east
you’s a b*tch boy, quit doin’ all that woofin’, you a sheep
it’s way deeper than six feet, this sh*t get deep, i’m losin’ sleep
n*ggas dyin’, but n*ggas on both sides tryna keep the peace
how thе f*ck i’m gon’ tell brodie stop? you know reapеrs gon’ reap
how i’m gon’ tell him stop bustin’ his gun? that’s how he eat
i love my brother like he me, i treat him like he me
him and me gon’ do it b*i*g until we d*i*e
[verse]
my n*gga’ll k!ll my opps for free just because it’s me
you know me, i feed the streets
when i see him, put him on a tee, then go beat a beat
you won’t catch no lame b*tches with me, she gotta be a freak
huh, ayy
n*ggas dyin’ on the westside, they sayin’ it was me
you ever wanted n*ggas dead so bad, you ain’t want it for free?
man, you wanna pay your cheese, you tired of hearin’ n*ggas breathe, huh?
man, the internet make n*ggas think they tough
every time i hear about a n*gga dyin’, i get a rush
i love goin’ on them drills, i love hearin’ my gun bust
fah*fah*fah, them n*ggas goin’, “ahh,” that sh*t tough, huh?
they gave me a million dollars, i’m still doin’ hoodrat sh*t
don’t ask me about no shows, i don’t even book my sh*t
i done been shot, seen n*ggas get dropped, that’s why i look like this
brodie called, he say he seen an opp, i’m like, “cook that b*tch”
hmm, ayy
n*ggas dyin’ on the westside, they sayin’ it was me
i probably done came out like two hundred, this murder sh*t ain’t free
a n*gga might as well off hisself, he think he murkin’ me
n*ggas playin’ with me on the ‘gram, they think they hurtin’ me
make a n*gga burn the westside down while i’m k!llin’ on the east
i heard an opp just got shot, the bloods’ll call him bp
i wonder why these n*ggas’ friends always bug*eye when they see me?
i heard it’s cheese on his head, why he ain’t dead yet?
shootin’ dice, i gamble my life, i’m with redman
stop shootin’ them n*ggas in they legs, we want head taps
oh, they bein’ rappers? they go out of town where they friends at
[chorus]
n*ggas dyin’ on the westside, they sayin’ it was me
man, leave that sh*t in the streets, keep it g
when he die, you can claim the body, just don’t come to me
gave my n*gga a few racks, but he’ll do that sh*t for free
’cause i’ll do that sh*t for him, ’cause he’ll do that sh*t for me
i’m a beast
we controlled sh*t on the westside and the east
you’s a b*tch boy, quit doin’ all that woofin’, you a sheep
it’s way deeper than six feet, this sh*t get deep, i’m losin’ sleep
n*ggas dyin’, but n*ggas on both sides tryna keep the peace
how the f*ck i’m gon’ tell brodie stop? you know reapers gon’ reap
how i’m gon’ tell him stop bustin’ his gun? that’s how he eat
i love my brother like he me, i treat him like he me
him and me gon’ do it b*i*g until we d*i*e
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