Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Get They Wig Split, artist - Celly Cel. Album song Song'z U Can't Find, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 27.07.1998
Record label: Realside
Song language: English
Get They Wig Split |
| Bitch I got beam like Scotty |
| Leave you spotty |
| When I point this aim at your brain |
| And leave them hollow thangs in your body |
| Lodi-dodi I drinks Bacardi |
| Gets dick hard drunk |
| When I’m off that skunk punk |
| And you don’t wanna dance tingo tango |
| I let my left right mingle mangle |
| To your jaw southpaw |
| It oughta be a law against these thangs I throw |
| About to lay some shit down with Celly Cel and Bo |
| From the Garden Blocc |
| Hillside got they Glock |
| Mack 10's |
| Mobb shit’ll neva end |
| I’m tryin' to have it all |
| So I ball 'till I’m gold |
| Mobbin' through a sixty usin' cruise control |
| I’m fuckin' wit that click nigga |
| That big nigga on the block |
| With Glocks, Rag Tops |
| Cut thangs on them gold knocks |
| Better watch your back 'cuz we strapped with teks |
| Push up in a blue Lex' |
| And dump caps to your neck |
| Mobb shit |
| Bustaz all die |
| Leather trench |
| Brim and two nines |
| Costume of a killa |
| At your bed side holdin' on two millas |
| Uggh we bust them teks close range |
| Livin' estranged |
| Called insane |
| 'Cuz when it’s on it’s on site no matter night or day |
| And you can’t fuck wit these |
| Get smothered with a half a key |
| Bitch |
| Celly Cel: |
| Give me the ball and I’mma fill the lane like 'Fenney |
| Hardaway 'cuz I’m out to get every penny |
| Any nigga disrespectin' when I’m checkin' for my scrilla |
| I know’m stilla wig splittin' killa ain’t no realla |
| Nigga realla than me |
| Mobbin' through your hood and takin' heads |
| Slumpin' hangin out the windows dumpin' |
| And shakin' 'Feds |
| So mind your own |
| Cross the line and see how quick they gone |
| Head blown decapitated caught slippin' in my zone |
| Fuckin' with this Mobb shit |
| Niggas get they wig split |
| Uggh it’s the murder man posted at the front door |
| And when they comes I dumps with both four-four's |
| Letin' 'em have it 'cuz I’m static |
| Dumpin the grass |
| Killed his ass |
| And then kneel down and get my last laugh |
| Punk bitch shouldn’t have tripped |
| Now he lay dead in the ditch |
| Ass ripped |
| Suckin' on his own dick |
| Money talk |
| Bullshit walk |
| Fool this ain’t no sunshine |
| Three killas |
| One garden blocc, two hillside |
| This shit’s fucked and I am tag teamin' with the murder man |
| And that’ll hurt a man |
| Niggas doin' dirt and |
| All you got to do is hop your ass in my 'Cut |
| We’ll be back tomorrow mornin' |
| Cell, you comin' or what? |
| I got this gut feelin' |
| About to make the killin' for a livin' |
| The contract said the nigga wore a wire tap |
| And they want him dead |
| A hundred G’s for his head |
| And leave a bloody glove down where that body bled |
| Celly Cel: |
| Red rum is what I’m hummin' as I hit the fence |
| Homicide looked for prints but found no evidence |
| Stuffed his head in the duffel bag and zipped it up |
| Them ballas want to see his face before they break us off a cut |
| There it is cashed him like some chips at Reno |
| Slid us a briefcase full of crispy ass C-Notes |
| Made the hit |
| Got the scrilla |
| Gone without a trace |
| B behind the wheel |
| And Bo Loc cuffed to the briefcase |
| Yo' nigga Cell got the chopper 'case they on my trail |
| If it’s a tail then I’mma leave a 50 empty shells |
| Pistol smokin' |
| These niggas know we ain’t no jokin' |
| Split up the tokens |
| And I’m back in the hood loccin' |
| Fuckin' with this Mobb shit |
| Niggas get they wig split |
| Yeah, like a real hillside strangler, yola slanger, tryin to get a |
| Buck but if I’m fucked in the gas chamber |
| The autopsy red, them niggas had some heat fo yo ass |
| And never leave your block without your Glock, clip and mask |
| Haters hatin but its all game related and that’s what we do bitch |