Lyrics Sucha - Trick Trick

Sucha

You such a killa when you packin' the gun
When real killas come around (Villainous!)
You don’t do nothin' but run
I hate yo type, let’s put it on the floor of the deck
I can smell you from a mile away, you ain’t right homie
You love the drama, but ain’t ready for the beef
Ain’t never ready for the fight homie, what you scared of?
That there’s a chance we gon' see yo face?
Come through later and G up yo place?
See you got yo phone and dialin' 911
Regular run, but see they ain’t gon' come 'cause they know you a rat!
Rat master, big as Fat Bastard
Anywhere other than church, and you gettin' blasted
For real though, wanna stump you with a steel toe
Smack this nigga on his ass, he’s a real ho (Hahaha)
Sterling silver in the club with yo hands up
Lookin' like a damn fool, pull your pants up!
And you wonder why you can’t get a pass
And why is everybody’s talkin' 'bout whoopin' yo ass nigga
You such a gangsta, why you fake so much?
(Whut? Whut?)
You such a playa, why you hate so much?
(Whut? Whut?)
You such a killer when you packin' the gun
When real killers come around, you do nothin' but run
You such a gangsta, why you fake so much?
(Whut? Whut?)
You such a playa, why you hate so much?
(Whut? Whut?)
You such a killer when you packin' the gun
When real killers come around (Villainous!)
You do nothin' but run
Mother fucker you don’t know me, and I don’t know you either
Stop tryin' to talk to me, lyin' to people, tellin' them
That I got yo back, your way back
That’s my enemy you talking to, why would you say that?
Idiot.
Now they finna give it to you, did you get it yet?
Stupidest nigga up in the city yet, you see him?
All the time, but you might not know
We finna wrap him up after the show
He the one that keep yellin' he a killer, and swear he a G
Pretending to be a dealer but they frontin' him beeds
Got a ticket, ain’t even cashed out yet
His baby momma brotha frontin' him and even take his ass out yet
If you ever see him drivin', what none of them heeds
Could be them boys cars and daddy runnin 'em beats
If he ever get arrested, he gon' tell on him
And he wonder why there’s hell on him, the mother fucker
You such a gangsta, why you fake so much?
(Whut? Whut?)
You such a playa, why you hate so much?
(Whut? Whut?)
You such a killer when you packin' the gun
When real killers come around, you don’t do nothin' but run
You such a gangsta, why you fake so much?
(I like that)
(Whut? Whut?)
You such a playa, why you hate so much?
(Whut? Whut?)
You such a killer when you packin' the gun
When real killers come around, (Villainous!) you don’t do nothin' but run
I get so sick of these mother fuckers pretendin' not to be busters
Always hatin' for nothin', and tryin' to come under somethin'
You niggas is fags, tryna play ahead on my shit
You niggas is fags, keep yo ass in the closet
Bitch-made, nigga you fake as fuck
No retaliation on the niggas that sprayed yo truck
You locked up, five g’s, and stuck in the can
Writin' letters to a bitch that’s fuckin' yo mans
You got somewhere another nigga stuck his dick
If you want her then you can have her but I fucked yo bitch
She gotta whole lotta mouth nigga, just like you
But she don’t talk that much, 'cause I put it to use
If you was a pimp nigga, then your MAC is gone
Who you think this funny lookin' bitch practice on?
You like to lie aloud bout how many gats you bust
On a movie you couldn’t act like Gus, mother fucker (Extra)
You such a gangsta, why you fake so much?
You such a playa, why you hate so much?
You such a killer when you packin' the gun
When real killers come around, you do nothin' but run
You such a gangsta, why you fake so much?
You such a playa, why you hate so much?
You such a killer when you packin' the gun
When real killers come around, you do nothin' but run