Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Menensky Mobbin, artist - Bizzy Bone. Date of issue: 29.11.2010
Song language: English
Menensky Mobbin |
| Menensky-muthafuckin'-Tribe mobbin' on muthafuckas |
| See, it’s like the Menensky Mob, see |
| They used to be the ones who was fightin' the slave master |
| So the people didn’t go on the boat, you know what I’m sayin'? |
| (Shit, smoke, can a black man get some paper up in this place, man?) |
| (But I’m a black man in a white man’s world) |
| Fuck this shit |
| Oh, Menensky (Menesky!) mobbin' |
| Menensky mobbin', nigga |
| Oh, Menensky (Menesky!) mobbin' |
| Menensky mobbin', nigga |
| Oh, Menensky (Menesky niggas around the muthafuckin' world) mobbin' |
| Menensky mobbin', nigga |
| Oh, Menensky (Menensky!) mobbin' |
| Watts niggas with problems |
| And the ?? |
| thugs are from the projects |
| Smokin' chronic with love with the gun in the glove |
| Nigga run, nigga run, nigga run |
| Menensky mobbin' muthafucka! |
| (Bizzy) |
| Menensky mobbin' muthafucka with Watts niggas |
| In Cali ready to riot and rally around |
| Brawlin' in my back door ready for warfare, declare like my Capo |
| ?? |
| Gettin' wacko and smokin' tabacco |
| Yeah my niggas with tatoos, a sack of crack, and I’ll pat you down too |
| My voodoo with that flip flop flow, don’t make me blast you |
| Right past you with the mask on, bitch |
| Sippin' the passion, get it twisted mister bitchafied |
| This introduction bustin' |
| I’m bumpin' properly, property of my poverty, God we need a job |
| Clock me in my Saab, Menesky mobbin', bobbin' and weavin', no pron |
| You niggas' sloppy, don’t copy, get popped, nigga don’t jock me--you're raw |
| Oh, Menensky mobbin' |
| (I'm tryin' to get high muthafucka') |
| Oh, Menensky mobbin' |
| (You're over here trippin' and shit, man what the fuck’s wrong with you?) |
| Oh, Menensky mobbin' |
| Man, we mobbin' on niggas |
| You niggas can’t fuck with me |
| Watts niggas with problems |
| And the ?? |
| thugs are from the projects |
| We smokin' chronic with love with the gun in the glove |
| Nigga run, nigga run, nigga run |
| (Bizzy) |
| Hock my Benz |
| Fuck a bitch for the babies and Christmas gifts |
| When I’m lifted ridin' down the strip: same niggas, the same shit |
| Workin' the graveyard shift back on Brackland where the broads flipped like a |
| Movie |
| And my raw dogs trip in the line of duty |
| Look at the groupies, holler, holler, from the hoopties and my Lucciano’s |
| Groovy |
| Judge and jury my movie confuse me with those other thugs |
| On a high speed chase say |
| Say don’t swerve in the mud, and the tight weed taste like love |
| We thuggish in Columbus slums, suburbs, muthafucka word |
| Sift through my proberbs |
| And I heard that we’re rockin' up birds |
| When out in Florida and CaliforniaNew York, Little Pomona, shookin' soldiers |
| Smokin' doja, composure suppose |
| Oh, Menensky mobbin' |
| (Menensky muthafuckin' mobbin') |
| Oh, Menensky mobbin' |
| Oh, Menensky mobbin' |
| (Watts niggas. With Watts with muthafuckin' problems, c’mon, c’mon) |
| Oh, Menensky mobbin |
| Watts niggas with problems |
| And the ?? |
| thugs are from the projects |
| We smokin' chronic with love with the gun in the glove |
| Nigga run, nigga run, nigga run |
| (Bizzy) |
| Born to be ?, crushin' crucial, not the conflict, and b-b-b-bomb shit |
| I’m on the chronic chokin' bubonic, harmonic |
| Eyes blood-shot red, loc’d out like Eazy--he dead, surprise |
| Fuck the Feds, fuck the bitches instead |
| Step in the bedroom, I’m about to get some head soon |
| She’s wet in the womb |
| I’m kinda nast and mad at ya, but boom, it’s till the sun up |
| What up, done up, shut up, it’s all in the game, it shouldn’t be painful |
| Well why the fuck I feel so much pain stressin' my brain? |
| Let the train pass, look at the sky, play, laugh |
| With visions back in May on how I played dad |
| Don’t say that and criticize yourself, I’m’a tell the truth |
| Roof nigga from Glock-Glock, no truce, the punk enemies deadly |
| And shoot if you wanna |
| Smoke water, but you can die, bitch, it’s normal |
| Eventually your number’s called through the portal and muthafucka fall |
| Here’s a quarter to call your dogs |
| Oh, Menensky mobbin' |
| (Nigga, Menensky mobbin' world-muthafuckin'-wide on these hoes, c’mon!) |
| Oh, Menensky mobbin' |
| Oh, Menesky mobbin', Watts niggas with problems |
| And the ?? |
| thugs are from the projects |
| Whoo! |
| We’re smokin' chronic with love and the gun in the glove |
| Nigga run, nigga run, nigga run |
| For sure |
| (Menensky niggas mobbin' world wide |
| Are you down with the Menensky Tribe? |
| Getready for war) |