Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song No Snitchin', artist - Chamillionaire.
Date of issue: 31.12.2004
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
No Snitchin' |
This is for my gangstas, real niggas, ballas, trill niggas |
Northside, Southside, chunk ya deuce up |
This is for my gangstas, real niggas, ballas, trill niggas |
Eastside, Westside, chunk ya deuce up |
Plenty niggas get they head turned red for the bread |
Start off with the information, load it up in ya head |
Couldn’t hold it, so it turned out its sumthin' he said |
What he tell the FEDS (need someone to call) |
Your decision was to snitchin' and they was there to listen |
When he told what he know, said they barely was trippin' |
Less time, now the niggas in a better position |
Unless you count the fact that the streets know he was snitchin' |
He was lookin at a 30 but he only did 10 |
How them years turn to months, can he tell you dat, and |
He ain’t really gotta answer, just the sweat in his hands |
Will he make it out to make it, hmmm well it depends |
Everybody know the info you was tellin ya friends |
Plus the streets know the deals that you made with the pen |
Russian Roulette, yep nigga bet the barrel will spin |
You hear that, yea nigga thats the sound of revenge |
Walk down the right road |
'Cause the streets is so cold |
You betta take ya life slow |
Or you’ll miss it |
Listen to the G-Code |
If you know what I know |
Then you’ll keep yo mouth closed |
(Keep your mouth closed, nigga) |
We don’t tolerate snitches |
This is for my gangstas, real niggas, ballas, trill niggas |
Northside, Southside, chunk ya deuce up |
This is for my gangstas, real niggas, ballas, trill niggas |
Eastside, Westside, chunk ya deuce up |
If you gon live that crime life, I hope you hold dat 9 tight |
You live life like a pussy then thats probably what you’ll die like |
I neva eva loved a sucka, them ain’t really my type |
Rats, snakes, yea mayne the game is full of wildlife |
Don’t wanna do no time right? |
You wanna live that high life |
Like go withdrawl, have a hundred thousand in ya eye sight |
Enter ya crib, see the clouds peepin' through ya skylight |
You be a copycat, caught him right after my life, cause mine right |
Thats what he told me but I didn’t listen |
Doin crime for a dime wasn’t my intention |
You insane, think his name sumthin' I will mention |
Only snitches (need someone to tell) |
Alotta niggas in the game, hustlin' doin they thing |
Usin codes on the phone with unusual slang |
If you know what he know then you won’t say a thing |
You wouldn’t need someone to tell |
Careful bout the life you lead, ain’t smart with ya life |
You plead, the streets will ignite ya T |
Like you ain’t got the right to breathe |
(Cough) To choke on the realness |
Reality is what the fake don’t know how to deal with |
Words leak from the teeth, but he’ll say seal it |
Then go get a undercover brother he can chill with |
Find a nigga that be hustlin to make a deal with |
But the streets will hold court for him and’ll deal with it |
Walk down the right road |
'Cause the streets is so cold |
You betta take ya life slow |
Or you’ll miss it |
Listen to the G-Code |
If you know what I know |
Then you’ll keep yo mouth closed |
(Keep your mouth closed, nigga) |
We don’t tolerate snitches |
This is for my gangstas, real niggas, ballas, trill niggas |
Northside, Southside, chunk ya deuce up |
This is for my gangstas, real niggas, ballas, trill niggas |
Eastside, Westside, chunk ya deuce up |
This for the G’s, street jugglin, movin the fire |
When you talkin' what you talkin' it ain’t through the wire |
Police pull you over, now they callin' you a liar |
You got amnesia, don’t even know the dude beside ya |
You don’t know, you ain’t sayin, you ain’t heard what he said |
Told you a closed mouth ain’t gon neva get fed |
A open mouth’ll get you county instead of the FEDS |
Some scared niggas speak up so they’ll be less in the red |
Niggas can’t deal with no 9 to 5 so they day-to-day budgeters |
Its the hustlers that get put away by the customers |
You upstate, niggas use to be southerners |
Here the streets make the laws and don’t answer the governors |
We the niggas thats too real to snitch on a snitch |
But make a snitch turn to poof with a flick of the wrist |
That ain’t gon get in arguements, just go get you a clip |
And they gon think about the consequences, let 'em repent |
Walk down the right road |
'Cause the streets is so cold |
You betta take ya life slow |
Or you’ll miss it |
Listen to the G-Code |
If you know what I know |
Then you’ll keep yo mouth closed |
(Keep your mouth closed, nigga) |
We don’t tolerate snitches |
This is for my gangstas, real niggas, ballas, trill niggas |
Northside, Southside, chunk ya deuce up |
This is for my gangstas, real niggas, ballas, trill niggas |
Eastside, Westside, chunk ya deuce up |
Man hold up, you a real nigga and you ain’t got nuthin to say |
When they come question you, just keep it 100 |
And go ahead and chunk ya deuce up |