Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Let's Get Em , by - C-Mob. Release date: 09.08.2012
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Let's Get Em |
| Bootleg, yeah |
| Madame Dane, uh huh |
| C-Mob, c’mon |
| Let’s get em |
| Let’s get em |
| Aim for the head in the middle even with the shit back in a spittle |
| C’mon let’s get em |
| Hit spleen, blow a hole in his chest and the rest can’t believe how we did him |
| C’mon let’s get em |
| Softer than a Twinkie in the middle wonder why real niggas don’t feel em |
| Let’s get em |
| 200 round drums |
| Lft blood in his lungs |
| Tell the medic sh’s too late to get em |
| C’mon et’s get em |
| Aim for the head in the middle even with the shit back in a spittle |
| C’mon let’s get em |
| Hit spleen, blow a hole in his chest and the rest can’t believe how we did him |
| C’mon let’s get em |
| Softer than a Twinkie in the middle wonder why real niggas don’t feel em |
| Let’s get em |
| 200 round drums |
| Left blood in his lungs |
| Tell the medic she’s too late to get em |
| Madame swag is kill |
| Hit by these all for the master deal |
| Take bitty franks and a mass of meals |
| Blast for bills |
| Give pussy niggas a mask and gills |
| Keep a soft nigga with a flashing grill |
| Bottle full of water, boobs and X pills |
| Chop a brick slab for the pads of grill |
| Guts keep coming trynna catch that thrill |
| Chase that pill |
| Smoke that real |
| Off them once till they lungs get ill |
| Rain down ups till my pockets spill |
| Even the thug said that bitch got skills |
| I’m will with intent to kill |
| Stop a nigga fight like a richer steel |
| Stand in again till my numbers stand still |
| Go run it up the middle like a running-back will |
| Let’s get em |
| Aim for the head in the middle even with the shit back in a spittle |
| C’mon let’s get em |
| Hit spleen, blow a hole in his chest and the rest can’t believe how we did him |
| C’mon let’s get em |
| Softer than a Twinkie in the middle wonder why real niggas don’t feel em |
| Let’s get em |
| 200 round drums |
| Left blood in his lungs |
| Tell the medic she’s too late to get em |
| C’mon et’s get em |
| Aim for the head in the middle even with the shit back in a spittle |
| C’mon let’s get em |
| Hit spleen, blow a hole in his chest and the rest can’t believe how we did him |
| C’mon let’s get em |
| Softer than a Twinkie in the middle wonder why real niggas don’t feel em |
| Let’s get em |
| 200 round drums |
| Left blood in his lungs |
| Tell the medic she’s too late to get em |
| How many y’all want niggas want it with Leg |
| I send a bullet through the front come out the back of your head |
| And I’mma Flint cowboy slinging nothing but lead |
| Don’t make me leave a horse head at the foot of your bed |
| Date night made niggas still ducking the Feds |
| Got to work prepping the search |
| Plugged in with your dreads |
| It’s like a Pillsbury Doughboy I’m about the bread |
| Trynna make enough cheddar for the clique to spread |
| Let’s get em |
| Kill em |
| We don’t feel em |
| Numb from the waste down when we hit em |
| Another paraplegic got his homeboys with em |
| On the First 48 you saw the way that we did em |
| Let’s get em |
| From the blocks to the yard-set of prison |
| From a gram, to a eighth, to a fourth, of a chick |
| Took a break from the kitchen wrists hurt from whipping |
| Wordplay, lock the bullets in the cage then flip em |
| Let’s get em |
| Aim for the head in the middle even with the shit back in a spittle |
| C’mon let’s get em |
| Hit spleen, blow a hole in his chest and the rest can’t believe how we did him |
| C’mon let’s get em |
| Softer than a Twinkie in the middle wonder why real niggas don’t feel em |
| Let’s get em |
| 200 round drums |
| Left blood in his lungs |
| Tell the medic she’s too late to get em |
| C’mon et’s get em |
| Aim for the head in the middle even with the shit back in a spittle |
| C’mon let’s get em |
| Hit spleen, blow a hole in his chest and the rest can’t believe how we did him |
| C’mon let’s get em |
| Softer than a Twinkie in the middle wonder why real niggas don’t feel em |
| Let’s get em |
| 200 round drums |
| Left blood in his lungs |
| Tell the medic she’s too late to get em |
| Let’s get em when I hit em I’mma split em |
| Got a hollow in the chamber and I keep it cocked back with the clip full |
| Mob, Madam and Leg will make you beg for your life like a poodle to a pack full |
| of pit-bulls |
| You don’t want my trigger finger to itch again |
| Struggling and I live in the midst of sin |
| Indiana all the way into Michigan |
| You’d a learned if you woulda been listening |
| We’re menaces get off our premises |
| My heart is cold and I do not have tenderness |
| Murder you like Cain did Abel in Genesis |
| Off with your head and that won’t be the end of this |
| My bullets are hungry and I’m about to let em go sink their teeth in and bite |
| And after I’m done with the murder I get away just like I did for the night |
| Let’s get em |
| Aim for the head in the middle even with the shit back in a spittle |
| C’mon let’s get em |
| Hit spleen, blow a hole in his chest and the rest can’t believe how we did him |
| C’mon let’s get em |
| Softer than a Twinkie in the middle wonder why real niggas don’t feel em |
| Let’s get em |
| 200 round drums |
| Left blood in his lungs |
| Tell the medic she’s too late to get em |
| C’mon et’s get em |
| Aim for the head in the middle even with the shit back in a spittle |
| C’mon let’s get em |
| Hit spleen, blow a hole in his chest and the rest can’t believe how we did him |
| C’mon let’s get em |
| Softer than a Twinkie in the middle wonder why real niggas don’t feel em |
| Let’s get em |
| 200 round drums |
| Left blood in his lungs |
| Tell the medic she’s too late to get em |