Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Stick You, artist - Capone-N-Noreaga. Date of issue: 16.06.1997
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Stick You |
| We’re gonna go get him right now, yo, us, us, right here, yo Us, yo, nobody else, we gonna get him, yo |
| (listen, listen, listen son) |
| Listen, listen — Yo, we gotta map this shit out, son |
| we can’t just be runnin’them things… |
| Meet us on 160 — the nigga be on 1−5-2, |
| and we just gonna do it on 160, we gonna get… |
| Look, I’m sayin’dun, we gonna keep it real, man |
| (He ain’t gonna do it to us again son! We gonna do it son!) |
| Look, I’m sayin'- you know I’m with you — you know how we get down |
| We gonna get the nigga but we gotta map this shit out right |
| cause people, I… That nigga got mad, fuckin, |
| you know what I’m sayin’Boricua niggas runnin’with him (word?) |
| You know what I’m sayin'? |
| They ain’t gonna expect it, |
| we gonna move it’s raining son, |
| they ain’t gonna expect it right now, |
| they ain’t gonna expect it, son |
| I ain’t trying to have no 2−5 casualties, man, |
| that’s what I’m sayin', I want us to get in, |
| and get the fuck out… |
| Before the 112, to the U.S.A. building in Iraq |
| My crew bust back, we’re cap peeling |
| Your crew dealing, in a box with no feeling |
| Informer type, that’s what you get for squealing |
| It’s the money or the morgue son, ready to die |
| Black Infiniti, yo, papi, call Ki The coke connect — don’t trust us, he wanna touch us So call Russ, tell him, scoop me in the Lexus |
| It’s all good, in the …јood, nobody know shhh |
| Infrared, off the roof, some ol’scope shhh |
| CNN, desert men, holding the chrome with gorilla grip |
| Sing Sing, straight convict |
| Strap the door, C-4, detonating shhh |
| Blow the spot, don’t give a fuck who you go and get |
| We want the yay-yo |
| And the cash that’s in the stash, strip his Tommy drawers |
| Yo, check the crack of his ass |
| (Noreaga) You on some homo shhh? |
| Nah kid, we on some real shit |
| Since we here, we might as well get all of it Inshallah allahu akbar supporter |
| CNN, desert men supreme order (word) |
| A kassi, three and a quarter, Arab Nazi |
| Me and shorty from the Mecca, having a session |
| Play the Shark Bar, sipping on French connection |
| On the rocks, son, hit me on the box |
| Time to hit the spot, regulate the whole fucking block |
| Grab the gray tape, gag his mouth, leave him for the rats |
| Stuck him for the yay-yo couldn’t get the money back |
| So where you at? |
| Meet me uptown, by the polo ground |
| Strapped with the vest, plus I got the 4-pound |
| Tell Caduece (tell who?), bring the A.K.(wha?), |
| so y’all can hold me down |
| Aight kiko, I’ma meet you in a hour, keep the free power close |
| Gotta get dun, and we ghost |
| Met papi in Iraq (huh?), then winged by the back |
| Opened up the trunk, and threw in the big gat |
| Took off, threw the skully mask over the dome |
| We war prone, desert men tactics all shown |
| Met on 1−5-2, now we figure, |
| Looking for that rich Dominican with that gold act vigor |
| Chico, he got porico, little do he know |
| We sticking him for all of his dough (nigga) |
| This ain’t your oridinary sh thug sh, that you used to, Q.U. |
| We stick you, we supposed to Not your ordinary sh thug sh that you used to, Q.U. |
| We stick you |
| Yo, for years I been buying my coke from the same cat |
| Gherri curl nigga, Dominican nigga who look Black |
| As I think back, transform coke to crack |
| Yo amigo, him and Rico, they got Borico |
| Son I know the spot, like the back of my hand |
| Networked the plan, we sticking him and his man |
| Working zip-lock, pop the lock, flee the spot |
| Grab the knot, national (hurry up! hurry up!), |
| tell Willy come and get me on 160 |
| I got three people with me, with trenches |
| We uptown waiting on the benches |
| The cab taking long, Dominicans coming strong |
| Claiming that it’s on, from dusk †?il dawn |
| We right across the street, they don’t see us Ay yo, our Cuban disguise, it got us looking like we Jesus |
| Inshallah, we flee the spot mega far |
| Jump up in Willy’s car, and scream «Alhumdu Allah!» |
| 25 people lost sleep, the other 25 lost heat (snitching) |
| A gave up Luis, and said it wasn’t worth it The CNN drug circuit, (yo) blind fold |
| Pass the gray tape, regulate, cowboy rope strapped |
| To the chair, stay there, he just a power ranger |
| That snitched on me while in danger |
| Noreaga, treat that ass like a stranger |
| Yo — yo yo — |
| Stick you, and him too — you and you |
| (Bitch ass nigga) |
| Got you back, got you back |
| We got you back — from sellin’that fake yak |