lirik lagu tweedy bird loc – gangsta tweed
chorus: fo’ clips & tammi holt:
ain’t no givin’ a fucc in the cpt
ain’t no givin’ a f~ck…!
if you ain’t down with compton then biatch you ain’t down with me, cpt: cap peelin’ territory
yeah… territory yeahh!
verse 1: tweedy bird loc:
gangsta tweed, is about to rhyme
if your b~tch is on the bacc ’cause the tramp’s all mine
gotta be a full tucced b~tch peeler in the cpt, n~gga gonna maintain
keep my ends off the key, turn to shove them n~ggas, see ’em through the scope
straight gangsta rhythm left another n~gga broke
finna die, a busta’s death
put him with his left, start the jeep then i step
to the eastside hub city onto kelly
busta~ass b~tch flaggin’ me down, finna make a sale
cheap chronic, man, dub saccs some mo’
there goes in my hand, get yo’ zags at the store
there you go, now the b~tch slippin’ her number
but the tricky~ass b~tch gon’ be the first to go under
smacc the b~tch with a gat in her head if she white
blow the b~tch up and now i’m with that sh~t every night
tell these mothafuccas they are broke than a b~tch
if you let me tell it, i don’t have to tell you sh~t
here goes another silly b~tch wanna fucc
if the tweed don’t want that ass, toss that b~tch up
and sticc some, hollow~ass tips down her throat
and burn her punk~ass n~ggas who really though
yo’ mothafuccin’ mama, that b~tch will get beat
by gangsta tweed, gangsta tweed
chorus
verse 2: tweedy bird loc:
k!llin’ all f~ggots down with n~ggas down for theirs
me myself, i make the hardest mothafuccas straight stare
fool handle, yo’ mothafuccin’ business
before you talk it, you always gettin’ near sh~t
get too quicc, to be gone, now it’s own
tell these fools if the tweed get beat, then peel his dome
can’t a near mothafucca stop me
b~tch buyin’ the dicc, if she ain’t knowin’, it will cost her
tramp~ass hoe somethin’ great
but i ain’t fuccin’ without at least 3 rubbers and some ducc tape
punk wearin’ menace slow your mothafuccin’ roll
i’m on, swole
nappy necc~ass b~tch know she ain’t worth sh~t
without a tongue, two lips, and some mothafuccin’ sticc
make my dicc bow down b~tch, or raise the fucc up
you ain’t gettin’ none of your sh~t, all your clothes is gone, slicc
get yo’ naked ass in the wind
so i can find another stupid b~tch like you, and begin again
nothin’ broke dead b~tches quicc to sleep
by gangsta tweed, gangsta tweed!
chorus x3
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