lirik lagu brotha lynch hung & c-bo - gangsta
[verse 1: c-bo]
y’all ready for the all-out callin’ out?
b-tch want a n-gga that’s ballin’ out
buddy ain’t right, they fallin’ out
in the doghouse all night callin’ out
spend money like stylin’ out
every night, sunset, whylin’ out
all out of place, all in my face
next thing you know, i would give her the ways
hit the pillow in her face
all up in your place, d-ck all up in your face
i just exercise game on a b-tch (and what?)
hang out the window, chain slang on a b-tch (and what?)
c-ck game then aim on a b-tch (and what?)
tryna get off into the brain on a b-tch (and what?)
bet that, i make change on a b-tch
flip 4-point-6 range on a b-tch
same n-gga, same trick, same wrist, n-gga, this frostbit
at the bar, all six bottles of cris’, hookers look like models and sh-t
n-gga, ‘cause we…
[chorus]
gangsta, n-gga, we like, f-ck a hoe
tuck ‘em, don’t love ‘em though
gangsta, we like, fucc a hoe
never thinking of ‘em though
gangsta, we like, fucc a ho
tuck ‘em, don’t love ‘em though
gangsta, we like, fucc a hoe
never thinking of ‘em though
gangsta, we like, fucc a ho
tuck ‘em, don’t love ‘em though
gangsta, we like, f-ck a hoe
never thinking of ‘em though
[verse 2: brotha lynch hung]
i used to ball like my c-ck is will and dog and jerome
used to hang out the window with the 9 chrome when it was on
used to sing out the window when i was 14-years-old
it was one o’clock in the morning, in her window, hard as a stone
gotta get it on
hit dome, split dome, spit chromes in they crevices
gotta let it rip; better hope that clip don’t split you like a lettuce
got a fetish for meat, retreat, penetration generatin’ the heat
beat, ‘til it’s bl–dy meat, got it all on my d-ckies and seats
never trusted a ho, just busted a ho in the grill
i’m the type of a n-gga that’ll get real
shoot them slugs in your bill, gotta get that mil
down to pop that pill too, gotta f-ck you ‘til i k!ll you
light grip, don’t even trip, eat ‘em up like soul food
this is four, fool, and the 9 connected
double jeopardy if you step to me
get a hysterectomy for disrespecting me
expect to leak your life away
you should cut ‘em up in little pieces for the mcrib
hook the meat like fish fillet
n-gga, ‘cause we…
[chorus]
gangsta, we like, f-ck a hoe
tuck ‘em, don’t love ‘em though
gangsta, we like, fucc a ho
never thinking of ‘em though
gangsta, we like, fucc a hoe
tuck ‘em, don’t love ‘em though
gangsta, we like, fucc a hoe
never thinking of ‘em though
gangsta, we like, fucc a hoe
tuck ‘em, don’t love ‘em though
gangsta, we like, f-ck a hoe
never thinking of ‘em though
[verse 3: kam]
i’m a rhyme fanatic, t-tanic grind, used to minor static
tryna have it, automatic mac, black v-g-n- addict
silly rabbit, trix is for kids, you must be crazy
‘cause screwin’ got n-ggas doin’ bids and pushin’ up daisies
it never ceases to amaze me what n-ggas do for the cot
like what g’s do for the block and these fiends do for the rock
tick tock, it don’t stop, from the back, bottom or on top
we got ‘em hot—if we can’t make it crack, then it won’t pop
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