Instrument
Ensembles
Genres
Komponistar
Utøvere

Sangtekst: Obie Trice. Cheers. Outro.

Nah, we ain't done

I love being hated, it's great it
Let's me know that I made it
I wouldn't have it no other way
I wouldn't trade it for the world

Only lets me know that I'm loved
By so many other motherfuckers
That hate you in this buzz

You keep fuckin' wit us, we keep fuckin' you up
And keep pulling the rug from up under you
And what's even more fucked up is
We enjoy what we were doin' so much

There ain't nothing that we love
More than pulling your skirts up
And exposin' you hoes so much
People are starting to wonder

What's up with the fuckin' 'Wonder Woman' under alls
Do onto others as you will have done unto you
So who the fuck you mothafuckas gonna run to
When someone runs up wit a mask and puts a gun to you

You will ask yourself how come
Your mans didn't empty the last round
That he had in Curtis Jackson's ass
While he had the chance

You keep asking us to keep it on wax, but we can't
This is past any rationalization
We have captured national media attention
Conversation is senseless, you can sense the tension
Start building soon as we enter the '106 and Park' building

Someone's gonna get killed
And I swear to God if someone so much
As even touches one of my people
I'll put a million on his head
And you ain't got the funds to match or counteract it

But I'd rather rap than get into this gangsta shit
And it ain't because I'm a bitch, it's because I ain't a bitch
I don't endanger people that I'm with
I'm a general, I ain't Bush
I don't send my soldiers to war if I ain't there
In the middle of this shit with 'em

So, when I do get 'em orders to storm your headquarters
You be fuckin' with a beat keeper
So you ain't eager to greet this lyrical meat cleaver
That'll eat ya, niggas wanna keep speaking
Like it ain't even that deep
I got heat that'll sweep a nigga's streets

So ya wouldn't fuck with me neither, only heaven can help ya
I be searching for ya longer than 'The Legend of Zelda'
Without a failure, it's gonna be hell to tell the Captain
That a Basset Hound couldn't even smell ya

Body wanna hide ya, I'll be on that mob shit
You another hopper under the Renaissance bitch
You get bombed like Lebanon with on tactic
I'll snatch your head like one Saddam's men

Mathafucka, I'll handle you, we can have it out on any avenue
An 'Average Man', flipped into an animal
Shoot out ya mandibles, cannons and ammunition reload
With precision, nigga, know the mechanicals

Break the pistol down, you should see them handles
The streets taught the child, no read up manuals
Pushing crack valves, young Nino Brown
Chasing green is the dream when you're young and brown

Bound to be a problem child, look what I'm involved in now
A 'Dozen Dirty' niggaz and they all get down
I'll solve any problem that enlarged when I was with revolvers
Used to laugh, "Bring me down", c'mon

While you punching' and tackling' punks
I'm handling' chumps, packing' the pump
That's longer than the elephant's trunk
On the streets I'm 'The Beast'
I'll feast upon the weak, so speak "Beef"
I'll shoot you and scream, "Increase the peace!"

The monster, pistol packing', pushing' niggaz off they Hondas
Stomp ya, get it cracking' yanking' bitches for they Ganja
Sneaky as fuck, I don't think Mamma beat me enough
When she was sleeping and stuff I was stealing the keys to the truck

Shut the fuck up before you end up dead in the dump truck
Or in the streets, taking a nap bleeding and locked up
You want what? Like M Bleak with this heat
If you're ten deep, then fuck, it'll be ten asleep

Don't mess with my alasnke, don't tussle with my aspe
Clutch your burner, bust it and watch your man bleed
We ferocious, toast don't host us, approach us
Throw heat straight from the shoulders
We the soldiers, ya the youngsters
Youngsters among, aren't ya dead in the dumpsta

Say to the monsta head full of drama
"You scared of the trauma", vomit to monsta
I'm back nigga, I reappear, shoot like you ain't seeing clear
Blackness, carcass, cover with catfish
We murkers with no purpose other than practice

There are three things I hate, liars, fakes, and cheaters
Alcoholics, sluts, and fuckin' wife beaters
I guess that describes my life
I don't even know whose song we singing, Obie Trice

Bitch! Bizarre don't give a fuck about no hip-hop
At my release party in a pink tank top and Reeboks
This 'Ja Rule' beef, I'm not getting in
I need an R&B singer to sing at my wedding

I'll turn your face into a fuckin' meat patty
I'll fuck yo mommy and go fishing with yo granny
I'll shit on you, I'll pee on R. Kelly too
This is Bizarre, see you 'Devil's Night 2'