lirik lagu boo yaa tribe - on me
(feat. kurupt)
(intro: kurupt)
i ain’t got a problem with n-body, right?
this is young gotti, but i got a problem with you
cause you got a problem with me
yeah n-gg-… keeping it real g’d up
hitting n-gg-z like +boo-yaa!+ punk
what the f-ck n-gg-!
(verse 1: ganxta ridd)
i’m ridd rhyming, i’m non existant
i’m just a daily, first to burn a convalescent
i’m the example of learning less
i’m spitting possible with two wesson’s, no questions
i’m the question with no guessing
i’m kind of stressing more pounds than two jurisdictions
these rappers don’t want prohibition
i will convict him
i’m the west coast redemption
target, coast ridah, boost eye for an eye
my blood line banging until the eight frame die
i snuggle up the gun, full grip
them eyes on my dinero, then -n-lyze this
real out the game, send them on their way to re-admit
boo-yaa t.r.i.b.e., ain’t nothing changed, crowned and convinced
pimp slap b-tches and hoes and gangster slap pimps
and when i went through, it’s that gangster sh-t
(chorus: boo-yaa t.r.i.b.e., kurupt)
(boo-yaa) gangsta, gangsta, gangsta, gangsta.
(kurupt) you know what i’m talking about
(boo-yaa) you get them fast then.
(boo-yaa) gangsta, gangsta, gangsta, gangsta.
(boo-yaa) this one’s on me
(boo-yaa) gangsta, gangsta, gangsta, gangsta.
(kurupt) gangsta, right?
(boo-yaa) you get them fast then.
(boo-yaa) gangsta, gangsta, gangsta, gangsta.
(boo-yaa) this one’s on me
(verse 2: kurupt)
g’s, t’s, where y’all at?
riders, that’s what y’all are (are)
i’m a for real front line folder
i fold front lines and then push they backs over
mama ain’t raised no busters (busters)
and mama ain’t raised no punks!
we’ll meet front to front
left the parking lot n-gg-, see what y’all want (n-gg-)
ten toes, ten fingertips
n-gg-z don’t really want to trip
they want to catch a n-gg- twenty deep (deep)
and catch n-gg-z thinking they could sleep (sleep)
ain’t no sleeping in a g zone n-gg-
bc rider and they every ball n-gg-
boo-yaa and gotti the original, told y’all n-gg-
yeah run through this motherf-cker, g’d up huh?
g cut timbs from the feet up huh?
(chorus: boo-yaa t.r.i.b.e. w/ minor variations)
(verse 3: ganxta ridd)
they love it when i bang through
s-x them all like a truce, fade them all like a rendez vous
i’m hitting senders like i’m hitting switches
lay bikes like a pipe, play a brick and then they all my b-tches
who’s that?, y’all n-gg-z beef
it’s that motherf-cker cause i’m getting plot money
envisioning b-lls, i’m wishing nuts and jaws
f-ck them trick fools that don’t want us to ball
we street flavor, blood we all involved
i’m all up in the guts quit ticking and crawl
p-ss the free fall, f-ck the free shows
slap the hoe all, paws that explode
motherf-ckers die trying mode
ganxta come on call me ganxta ridd
b.c.d.p. b.t. for sure
west west, east side, .45 reload
(chorus x2: boo-yaa t.r.i.b.e. w/ minor variations)
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