Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Outlaws, artist - King Tee. Date of issue: 31.12.2002
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Thump
Song language: English
Outlaws |
| We toss the heinas in the back, through the sun rooftop |
| Blowin' big out green, check out my gangsta tint |
| Me and King T, with a fifth of Hennessey |
| And the homey Kurupt about to blow shit up |
| So roll shit up, if you got a sack of that good |
| Have you trippin' like some sherm when we bounce through yo' hood |
| We make it happen, from the nickel plate to the platinum |
| It’s real shit, think of it, just musical rappin' |
| Check it out |
| I’ma tell you what it is when you’re fuckin' with a gangsta like me |
| Throw some gold feet on the MC |
| Bounce up and down the street with a trunk full of beats |
| Swervin' up a one-way, dippin' on a Sunday |
| Not givin' a fuck nigga Frost and Kurupt |
| Nigga motherfuck a bitch nigga, dip and hit a switch nigga |
| Whatchu wann' do, blaze a ounce with a nigga |
| Blaze up a stick and bounce with a nigga |
| You fuckin with some outlaws |
| Packin on pistolas |
| Eses load up, with them East side soldiers |
| Roll up a fat one and pass it around |
| Hide the stash and cash, when my dogs hit town |
| Man let the summer begin |
| The heat excites the east siders |
| Ain’t nothin' but G’s and low riders |
| Dippin' in the tightest, indoed out, benzoed out |
| Fool we got the Henn no doubt |
| My friends show out, we stack up ends and roll out |
| Make sure the chronic smoke blows out |
| Them tricks got no clout, cause they hatin' how we serve it |
| Don’t test T-Loc it ain’t worth it, I serve it |
| I’m tired of these bitch made niggaz |
| Actin like they comin' through with hammers and triggers |
| I’ll pull your whole card, nigga you ain’t hard |
| Your homey’s a bitch on the left with dick on his breath |
| I make fo’s hop, what the fuck do you do |
| I done smacked around bitch niggaz just like you |
| A gangsta’s a gangsta and that’s all I’ll be |
| What you want to do homey, chest blew through homey |
| You fuckin with some outlaws |
| Packin' on pistolas |
| Eses load up, with them East side soldiers |
| Roll up a fat one and pass it around |
| Hide the stash and cash, when my dogs hit town |
| Get high, fuck everything I’m blastin' on site |
| Throwin' up the hood for life |
| Movin in loco-motion, heated cause it’s on |
| These niggas done came through and invaded the zone |
| Now ain’t no mercy when we dealin' with these putos |
| Ask the homey Kurupt, he said the feelin' is mutual |
| We lay em down on site, on GP |
| Hit em up for la raza and for DPG |
| I got a cannon for the bustas, fuck the world |
| Gangstas and cascades, perms and curls |
| The M-16's bitches, 16 switches |
| Impalas, drops and pop collars |
| And ain’t nuttin' changed, still standin' by the bar |
| Drunk as a motherfucker, shinin' like a star |
| And if you took a glance let me tell you what you saw |
| A god damn fool, yes yes y’all |
| You fuckin' with some outlaws |
| Packin' on pistolas |
| Eses load up, with them East side soldiers |
| Roll up a fat one and pass it around |
| Hide the stash and cash, when my dogs hit town |