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lirik lagu eazy-e - niggaz my height don't fight

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[intro]

[eazy w/ normal voice]
“gimmie this, gimmie that, gimmie this, gimmie that
b-tch, step back and stop tryna jack.”

[eazy w/ female voice]
“but mister dopeman, dopeman, can i get a hit?”

[eazy w/ normal voice]
“no, ho, but you can get my duck sick.”

[verse 1]
but let me finish my story as i was sayin’
i told you lil locs ain’t playin’
gotta roll with the punches
can’t help the travellin’ bunches
now, ain’t that somethin’
just in case a few n-ggas try to trip
bone-out, put on my ski-mask and come back blastin’
cause n-ggas my height don’t fight
my name is eazy-e, you’re motherf-ckin’ right
they must to thought i was a busta
you’re wearin’ your bullet-proof vest
so what’s next?
i got my nine filled up with teflon
and don’t let me hit the wetbomb
so what ya wanna do?
the red, white and blue
i got some for you, too
cause it gonna be on when i’m kickin’ down doors
so say h-llo to my new 44

[hook]
i’m the type of n-gga
that smokes motherf-ckers
i’m the type of n-gga
that smokes motherf-ckers
i don’t give a f-ck f-ck
smoke motherf-ckers
i’mma smoke motherf-ckers
cause i’m the “e”

[verse 2]
so you can kiss my black -ss
f-ck the white house, it ain’t my house
so you can burn the motherf-ckers down for all i care
cause t-shirts and khakies is all i wear
i’m from the city where they show no pity for a punk -ss mark in the park
blow his brains out, stuff him in the bushes
take his gat, leave his -ss for the rats
and if he hit that cisco
i got a 187 on my pistol
wanted by the l.a.p.d.k
for puttin’ in work out my tray
because the president never sent
one d-mn dime to my residence
i’m goin’ crazy like 1980
i need my ends, f-ck you, pay me
or i’mma have to get the strap
my nutty o.g. buddy big black
i make you sh-t in your pants and shake like jell-o
so tell all my homies said h-llo

[hook]
i’m the type of n-gga
that smokes motherf-ckers
i’m the type of n-gga
that smokes motherf-ckers
i don’t give a f-ck
smoke motherf-ckers
smoke motherf-ckers
like it ain’t no thang

[verse 3]
you can’t check a checker
but when you wanna try let me know
i got the strecher on stand-by
starvin’ for a n-gga like you
that thinks his heart is much bigger than a trigger
so i can show how to put in work:
the ruthless network drive-by experts
straight outta compton, kickin’ up dust
the place where guns don’t get a chance to rust
i warned them and they still approached me
now i got two more golf-hats for my trophy
i got a brand new trend, it’s k!llin’ men
who is that?
that’s my little friend

[outro]
i don’t give a f-ck
i don’t give a f-ck
i don’t give a f-ck f-ck f-ck f-ck f-ck
i don’t give a f-ck
i don’t give a f-ck
smoke motherf-ckers like it ain’t no thang


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