| Uh Ohhhh, there them TRU Boys go
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| Uh Ohhhh, hit the muthafuckin flo'
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| Aaaaaaaah!
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| Came in this bitch to shut this muthafucka down
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| Baton Rouge and Louisiana so you know I’m bout to clown
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| When the thugs get to bussin, duck down hit the ground
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| Stay out my water boy if you don’t want to drown
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| You keep fuckin wit me, they gone find yo ass dead
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| When my song come on, they gon act a pussy on yo head
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| This for them thugs in the club, who straight, don’t mind dying
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| And them ballers in the parking lot, straight sitting on shine
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| C-Murder called me up, and said «T-Bo it’s time
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| To represent the dirty south and make 'em respect yo mind»
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| Trunk loads of soldiers always starting some shit
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| So stay the fuck from 'round us if you ain’t down with my click
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| Be on the lookout for them boys with them rags 'round they fo’head, (Uh Ohh)
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| Group of muthafuckas that got security hollerin 'Code Red'
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| Get Crunk, Get Buck, ya’ll pussy bitches get stuck
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| When we come to yo town, tear the fuckin club up
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| Only white boy with the click, so you know I must be sick
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| You don’t like me rollin wit TRU?, suck my fuckin dick
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| I’m from that 504, minus 279
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| Come and get you somethin', see me thuggin in that 225
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| Back 'em up, Get Crunk
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| Back 'em up, Get Buck
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| Big Time baller, shot caller, hustler
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| CP3, whodi they’ll bust ya
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| Rolce, with 4 doors, Bentleys with mo-mo's
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| I ain’t Ludacris but I can throw dem bo’s
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| Concerts stay packed, pockets gone stay fat
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| T-R-U hot, tell the dj’s to play that
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| Now give it to me, I want the jewels and the money
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| And ectasy for the thugs and the bunnies
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| We the type of niggas, ya’ll don’t ever wanna have beef wit
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| We’ll pull some sneak shit, and get off with some creep shit
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| Do anything for the look, for the stash and the cash
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| My face to recognizable dog, so I’ma need the mask
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| See they didn’t want to feel us until we had to empty the cannon
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| Tryna hold us, but they just comin up, empty handed
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| I know some love us, and I know that some can’t stand us
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| Me, P, and C we all thugs, seem like that shit just runs in the family
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| You know we thugged out, from the cradle to the grave
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| Them TRU Boys, The Miller Boys with T-Bo and some chrome toys
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| Dome checkin, disrespectin haters is a hobby, for life
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| No Limit to the fullest, with a bullet, so think twice
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| Lil Daddy, Limo tints on the Caddy, Truck
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| Them Cutt Boys gone bust, you better duck, cause we don’t give a fuck
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| I’m real with it, XL bring the Deadly Soundz beat
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| And Watch a nigga like C bring the heat
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| fade until end |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Get Bunked, Get Crunked , by - C-Murder. Song from the album C-P-3.Com, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп