Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Where We Wanna (feat. Goodie Mobb), artist - C-Murder. Date of issue: 31.12.1998
Song language: English
Where We Wanna (feat. Goodie Mobb) |
| Tell it Tell it Let em know |
| Ha ha ha ha ha ha |
| Talk how you wanna talk, hang where you wanna hang |
| Slang where you wanna slang, Goodie Mob and C-Murder man x2 |
| A soldier out that N.O. |
| camp |
| Meets the Goodreese, Gods finest cause he don’t make no trash |
| Pop us in your CD changer when you mash |
| Exemplery, brothers droppin brothers like the white man |
| Shoot street, we won’t, so get back |
| Big gats spray and get no work when he on the porch smokin crack |
| Why girls wanna be Satan to the niggas incarcerated, I got one love |
| Cause I can’t get no where hatin, the funk I will not be rakin |
| Uh, I know one nigga that met his match, cakin |
| I’m not goin tell you how to live your life, boy you bakin |
| Bitch I’m a runnin all through you, you’s a PT nigga |
| Cause we run with TRU niggas, all about them dollar figures |
| Ready to take the war, mafia said go get em |
| Hair growin long, my hunger pain got my game goin strong |
| From the Twats to the Third Ward |
| Shippin them tens across the board like keys |
| Blowin D’s all the way down to New Orleans |
| Baton Rouge, have you blues, don’t snooze |
| Or you might lose your life caught up in the fight |
| Slugs and thugs go together like pumps and trunks |
| Ready to dump, yo, laid back, crunk |
| Blowin like king jumpin hoggin in the 99's |
| Sizzlin out my fuckin face, jumpin out your polo’s |
| Back up in the blunts birds, flip flop to the rolls elbows |
| With the look, down here, rushin all up on the curb |
| Good bye night please, what you think |
| Murder can a nigga get up in a tree |
| Goodie Mob, real mail, A-T-L, where them killas dwell |
| Southside niggas pushin motherfuckin platinum figures |
| That many bitches wanna roll with us |
| But like the weed with no seed we just roll em up |
| Beats By The Pound ain’t No Limit, Goodie Mob and Murder man like Jackie Chan |
| Hittin hard and pushin weight by the sound |
| You hit the I-10 and head west or we’ll test |
| Cause down in Twats, fuck the cops, killas packin Glocks |
| Lo and Gipp never trip, we goin sank a nigga ship |
| T-Mo and Khujo in a motherfuckin studio |
| And gettin crunk, bumpin in a trunk |
| And rap when I wanna rap so where my real niggas at |
| Oh Lord I’m Sugar Sugar please, take it easy heeze |
| Already beat him to his knees, he goin give you your cheese |
| Talkin bout the day ?? |
| your tippin the scale |
| I work your ass like a woman, make you sale your tale |
| Throw your ass on the stove and repay you there |
| I’m a let C-Murder make your t-shirt wet |
| I’m a bet, hot enough to make the concrete sweat |
| Fuck with me the wrong way and know you’ll never forget |