Lyrics DAMU - Big Scoob, Messy Marv, Bumpy Knuckles

DAMU

It’s a full time job nigga stand in line
5−9 bounty hunter bitch i ride that 5
Stone love, i bleed this blood and bang this gang
From the B on my fitted nigga down to my shoe strings
Niggas know what it is homie Mess damuin'
Red this, burgundy that, they know what i’m doin'
I was wavin' my flag when i hopped out the pub
A few of my homeboy’s had me fucked up
Nigga’s crossed game on me, switched up on me
Just threw my set in the air like «fuck my homies»
Fillmore California i’m representing my square
How homie wasn’t blood when blood was right there
Soowoo
Tan Dickies, red fitted, red bandana
Black mossberg pump, call it the work hammer
House party niggas trippin' everybody out
Fully automatic weapons multiply the body count
Creepin' slow niggas howlin' «What that B like?»
Good kids but got swallowed by the street life
6 deuce Brims, APD
The gangs came with the 'cain back in 83
I been with it Soowoopin' but i don’t B walk
I throw knuckles on suckers and let my G talk
So check the gang files, you know the name pal
It’s Skatterman i sing this song and rep my gang now
I was jumped brim, so 6 deuce is the true
But niggas scream Vill, from Woodland ave.
back to Truce
We called it flu hills, from 59th to 56th that’s where i made skrill
And earned stripes in the field with Guerrilla niggas
Itchy finger quick to peel you niggas, skrilla getters
Well paid we was with it nigga, hood niggas
Killer City on some blood shit
Brimstone stand strong nigga 5−6
And back then blood was thin, the town was all crip
We stood strong all along on some Hog shit
My west riders tryna claim that they way realer
But any killer is a killer can you feel me nigga?
5 years down the line still talkin' blood shit
Blood niggas Blood walkin', real Bloods real talkin'
Shoestring still flamed up like an oven boy
Real killers aimin' at your heart like a lover boy
90 059 is the Zip, you can catch me on the fly if you tryna find a sip
If them boys come around then you don’t say zip
I keep a Spielberg 'round the corner with them clips
Rags on the right, Tech Nine in my reach
Leave you lyin' in the streets for lying to the street
I’m a lion on the beat, anything i see i feast
Top Dawg, Strange Music, shit you know we gotta eat
Damu
Bumpy’s in the club, that shit’s kinda strange
Cause i don’t party with these faggot niggas in the game
I come through the door double up 4−4's and a diamond chain
To security my name is «he don’t play no games»
Put the bass up loud so the club don’t hear this «blaka blaka»
I send you niggas flames with these 2 hot Waka flaka’s
We flood the spot Katrina style, can’t nobody stop us
5−7 RDV’s we some gangster motherfuckers
Rogue Dog!
It’s your boy from the nyc og Bumpy Knuckles
Nigga fuck you, step to me i’ll buck you
Their whole team is pussy, we call them niggas «Slut Crew»
Soowoo my niggas, I ain’t blood but i still fuck with you