Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Young Gunz, artist - Memphis Bleek. Date of issue: 12.07.1999
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Young Gunz |
| Uh… umm-umm |
| Yeah |
| Breath on this one right here… ri-right here |
| Breath on it |
| Verse 1: |
| Now you can either try to join us or run from us |
| But don’t dispute it |
| Choclair gon' leave your brain scarred |
| The situation’s hard |
| These niggas who be hating and dissing |
| But now I’m paid, now they looking for jobs |
| I don’t give a fuck of what you saw back in 9−5 |
| All things that I say, despite your long eyes |
| Were all wise, leave you in awe like God rise |
| All words that I say, All get! |
| All kinds! |
| And break all spines, and why wouldn’t |
| Cause when these peoples ask who diss, I be like «I did it» |
| So many niggas be dissing us niggas |
| But when these niggas confront 'em |
| Up in their face that they be afraid to admit it |
| I slap 'em in the face and make, every rhyme spitted |
| You heard this kid, roll with me, glide with me |
| Take my hand, come slide with me |
| Do you think you roll with Chocs and Bleek |
| (What the fuck y’all thinking) |
| So don’t be bringing your shit round here |
| My advice to you is get your ass back |
| Before it get slapped, turned out, and pushed back |
| Choclair put the T-dot-O up on the map, bi-otch |
| — Do you ever wanna see a nigga ball at the top |
| Wanna see a nigga fall, get it on with the cops |
| I ain’t changed, I still keep raw on the block |
| Nigga hate me, I ain’t never gon' stop |
| — They don’t ever wanna see a nigga ball at the top |
| Wanna see a nigga fall, get it on with the cops |
| I ain’t changed, I still keep raw on the block |
| Nigga hate me, I ain’t never gon' stop |
| Verse 2: |
| Yo, you see the Memph man laid up, paid up |
| Instead you wanna see a nigga sprayed up |
| Only use the waste up |
| And I still bust off nuts, with a numb dick straight up |
| Fuck y’all nigga wanna do, Huh duke |
| I know thug niggas creep with a gun duke |
| Me too, except, I got one in the hand for the jump off |
| Niggas still ain’t learned the ledge, nigga jump off |
| It’s real here, playa, you know what the deal here |
| Niggas in wheelchairs won’t sit still here |
| Battery pack cats, get their cavity cracked black |
| In fact, I still ain’t stop pointing the mack |
| At y’all niggas who hate me, don’t mistake me |
| Nigga, the money ain’t create Bleek |
| When I sold trays, in hallways, and had braids |
| Rob niggas, stomp niggas, for my P-Js |
| Verse 3: |
| Standing 6-foot-1, dark skin, smooth brother |
| Knee deep, up in your women, circle |
| Be my brothers underground in the gutters |
| Submerged under the nonsense |
| Those happy childs fronting with that coke-and-smile walk |
| Really big dick style, could stick your girl, make her smile |
| Listen in, niggas say they gonna fuck me up now |
| Need to understand paranormal land expands |
| People catching cock stand, when I touch mic stands |
| Even woolen hand strands, best believe I got lyrics up the sleeve |
| Little brother from the Bridgemont-C |
| People looking for a gig, your star’s fading |
| I say step to the side when young guns blazing |
| Chorus: |