Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Coming For You, artist - DJ Clue. Album song The Professional 2, in the genre R&BDate of issue: 31.12.2000
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Universal Music
Song language: English
Coming For You |
| New Beanie Sigel! |
| Freeway! |
| Don’t get scurred |
| Fat shout, Beat Street |
| 1, 2 — Sigel comin for you |
| 3, 4 — I’m bout to kick in your door |
| 5, 6 — Man I want those bricks |
| 7, 8 — You gon' give up dat weight |
| 9, 10 — I’ll put the Glock to ya chin |
| 11, 12 — Man I’ll see you in hell |
| I handle tools like hammers and ratchets |
| Gats wit metal attachments, how you want it metal or plastic |
| Disrespect your fam bastard, close your casket |
| Then I give 'em a can of hold your ashes |
| Visions of the killer for we rose a passin |
| True killer, true thug, never show no passion |
| Hit your rug, hit your ceiling, if I know if you stashin |
| Wrong, nigga the rug, nigga know who you passin |
| Fresh year from rammin off the zany’s fours and perks |
| Keep the semi handy jammin you for war or work |
| Niggas like the border goin bizurk |
| On the roof bangin dat swat, lettin off shots and spurts |
| Dey tryin to trap me in the back of the yard |
| Man I’m lettin every cat fall hittin from the cap to the sarge |
| Can’t see me back in the yard, two wacks back to the wall |
| Use the two gat stash pack in the wall |
| Picture Mac liftin up racks in the yard |
| I had a block shiftin up knocking off racks by the yard |
| The dope from dem dudes, smokeless confused, shit |
| They ain’t know if they want a crack or the saw |
| Switch they life, straight from the pipe to the straw |
| Coke in they vein, what you want the dope or the cane |
| I open the game, to sniffin the D, X to the Z |
| Hot shit from B-Sig consecutively |
| 1, 2 — Freeway’s comin for yo' ass |
| 3, 4 — You better watch yo' stash |
| 5, 6 — Have you duckin from dem clips |
| 7, 8 — Fuck it I can’t wait |
| Y’all niggas crazy think Free won’t draw the lev' |
| Prefer the nine but I got the four four instead |
| I move dymes who your dyme get your whore in bed |
| Tell that triflin bitch I want more than head |
| Free might spark at ya clip take more than bread |
| Guns and bricks while young bulls hug the block |
| Dey love the strip, help 'em get chains and watches |
| Guns and kicks, Freeway my name is priceless, flow is sick |
| And remember if you lie on Free |
| Lie in the lake, while your bitch lies on Free |
| She ride on the snake and my whip over her key |
| We ride in the jakes, empty clips hop on Amtrak |
| Out of the state, broody shit, you and yo man, right outta ya case |
| Hold dis clip blow your brain right outta ya face |
| Flow legendary, hotter than Mase |
| Dude Free never where we outta the case |
| Roc-A-Fella pop criss til we outta the case |
| Form the hood nigga Nikes, Delts, and 'Lo Sport |
| Hood niggas just like me, belted and blow court |
| Hood chickens just bite me well and blow squad |
| I was 16, 12,000 wit no job |
| And I skipped school, gripped a bitch wit no ride |
| See the crack smoked leave bitch wit no thighs, no tits |
| Rob hustlers wit no clips, no guns, left niggas wit no chips |
| And the flow runs like the Mississippi River |
| And your ho comes, ya bitch hear me when I whisper |
| Silence all guns hit 'em fo-fo-fo-fo-for dey hit ya |
| If we comin for you than nigga we gonna get ya |