lirik lagu urltv – rum nitty vs shotgun suge
[round 1: shotgun suge]
i’m like an o.g. to him, i do him gruesome
like, “lil’ bro, where’d you get the bars to face me? you must’ve grew some.”
beasley like, “show him the ropes jimmy, noose ’em.”
we got the insane crip vs the big grape, the big baby
let’s get one thing straight, i straight jack n-gg-s who think they crazy
you holla for me, you must be punch drunk p-ss insane he dumb nuts
.40 c-cky and it’s buffed up, lean on him, this n-gg- rum got me f-cked up
i’m on the turf where he bang at, lift the gun
small shot, his men’ll run, i’m hittin’ one
i’ll put a buck in a quarter like a nip of rum
aye smack, when this is over we gotta speak
me and you, got a lotta beef
i asked for top shelf, you give me rum? the shot was cheap
headshot, i’ll blick the semi
i’ll pull up in his mini city, where rum at?
knife in him, let’s get down to the nitty gritty
i outweigh him by 250
i throw these they too swiftly
iq i’m too witty
they said they want crips to stick together but we ain’t want you nitty
oh you crip cornell? they call you “insane nelly” they get crazy cause you here?
guns, i got ‘air force 1’s’ and nelly get two pair
you know how i rock, you can’t hide from me
search his block, search his spot
catch him, 2k’s green beam, it’s a perfect shot
i let the dessy blow, i’ll k!ll ya whole f-ckin’ family, you already know
one word, i’ll drop ya niece at an r. kelly show
had this n-gg- nitty ’bout to dumb out, hopin’ that she run out
have him throwin’ rocks at the studio beggin’ her to come out
i’m disrespectful, you said half of what i say, you the type to get mushed for it
he p-ssy, the .40 got the douche for her
battle rap reaction, say somethin’ crazy and get pushed forward
gun line king, he think of one of them gun lines he gon’ gain glory
yeah, ’til one of them gun lines turn into a front page story
i dunked on you vs twork, i do what i want, i’m big crippin’
fifth grippin’, big clip in, lookin’ for a reason to k!ll him i’m nit’ pickin’
out of all ya brothers, you the lowest (lois) one; chris griffin
{stumbles}
i’ll pull up shootin’, like i catch it off the p-ss
beasley, you better pick his box out before i catch it off the gl-ss
y’all know he heard me
i ain’t got no motherf-ckin’ slogan; jersey
[round 1: rum nitty]
we got rum nitty vs this big b-tch suge
that’s a bad look, nah scratch that, this cuz webb vs shaq suge
why you try? you jumped out on me first my n-gg-, here’s where i reply and it’s time to die
so let’s get one thing straight…ya vital signs
i brung out my pistol, it’s supposed to be cool
i don’t wanna have to slug out my n-gg-, you slammed on me first
with that dunk now you trippin’
n-gg- pull shotgun out in a bar, went out like blizzard
you said i line and shoot, with one 90 too (192)
the shot everclear, about to send you off to the highest proof
i’m goin’ in, they don’t think you gon’ win
not even a little shotgun; .410
you ’bout to get all the smoke and take so many punches
the fans yellin’ “get off the ropes!”
i’m wit’ the sh-t, of course i’ma talk it
.50 stink, glizzy grip, i load it and off it
you were standin’ with the ops when me and twork got it poppin’
dancin’, all in the videos, suge was the source of the problem
n-gg- who fake? before i lose my cool, wait
you gon’ respect my crippin’, or i go off, beat you ’til you got a blueface
make ya mind up wit’ it, ‘fore the sh-t really escalade and you see n-gg-s slide up grippin’
try me, i’ll line the .9 up, lift it
and the barrel two feet over a grape, that’s how ya wind (wine) up n-gg-
baow!
matter of fact, you can’t even hear the steel
silencer, that sh-t didn’t even whistle; emmett till
b-tch stop it, we clique poppin’
ray gibson, we ’bout to lose this sh-t watch it
big chopper, post up, been wildin’
got ’em!
{gotti jumps into suge}
i alley oop gotti that’s a rim rocker!
….then i tap his pockets!
gun’ll be in ya face, da vinci system
hi-tech machine, have him doin’ surgery on a grape
you fake, i come out to where y’all reside. clap the sh-t
abacus, doin’ numbers every time i slide
you’ll f-ck around and die rollin’ wit’ suge
the n-gg- not gon’ ride
if big and ‘pac taught me one lesson; never take shotgun’s side
f-ck n-gg-, i’m low key with the sub grippin’
tec-9, colombian necktie, i come out the cut lickin’
gun clickin’, one smith &
if a crip pull across ya face; submission
you ain’t ready yet, kalashnikov heavy set
and i’m puttin’ bodies on the chopper; med evac
for real a vet’, [?], cause i done really put that time in shotgun; more than bellichek
smokin’ sh-t what i be on
why? to be frank, nitty ran wit’ al capone (kapone)
b-tch you can’t keep it real yourself
n-gg- suicide or i’ll do the job; k!ll yaself
[round 2: shotgun suge]
yo, i be all in the west coast with the sig’ firin’
dunkin’ in l.a. like shaq not retirin’!
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