Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song For My Thugs , by - Funk Flex. Release date: 31.12.1998
Song language: English
For My Thugs |
| This one for the future |
| Everybody wanna be a Roc-a-fella gangsta |
| Hard for the street, sicka for the club |
| Sometimes for the ladies, but this one for my thugs |
| Hey yo, niggas wanna drive by the hood and dump |
| Come on stupid, I clap up from your hood to the trunk |
| Foot on the floor, back on the wall, good with the pump |
| Blast through your stomach, stupid, you can look through your lunch |
| Is this what you want? |
| Niggas that’s clappin that priest |
| Runnin the streets, lawless, blastin police |
| Stickin Furby’s out the window, snatchin your niece |
| And nah, we don’t just rap we clap you past the seats |
| Me with the twin eagle, B. Sigel and Bleek |
| And I got the whole city ready to throw toast wit' me |
| I’m loved, niggas wanna throw slugs with Jigga |
| All they, need is a reason to show love for Jigga |
| Niggas wanna go back to back, till both of our gats clack |
| Till we reload in three seconds flat, I’m back |
| Niggas ain’t met ya hat till we entered through ya shoulder |
| And we exit out ya back, gangsta nigga |
| Jay-Z: I flow hard for the street, sicka for the club |
| Sometimes for the ladies, but this one for my thugs |
| Bleek: To my thug niggas, slug niggas, tear the club niggas |
| My «I don’t give a fuck niggas.» |
| Both: It’s all love niggas |
| Cock and shoot it, smoke, whole city polluted |
| When I talk the whole block muted |
| Like E.F. Hutton style |
| Bleek not frontin now |
| We suit up for war with no button down |
| We clip up and zip up, hit your wip up |
| Put 4 in your cage, the other 4 in your face |
| And you don’t want that |
| I catch a nigga, who ain’t pump at |
| Send 'em to one of my custy’s and bring a lung back |
| Me, Bean, Jay, shit you can’t front that |
| Weed, coke, dope, Bleek nigga pump that |
| Stay in the game for my beef, I tote up |
| Sit blow in the seat, my weed I roll up |
| Smoke one to the head, come between my stomach and leg |
| Yeah I’m the thuggin the street |
| You don’t want nothing with Bleek |
| Its Roc-A, Fella for life, you know that shit |
| Get your guns, get your ones, nigga throw that shit |
| Jay-Z: I flow hard for the street, sicka for the club |
| Sometimes for the ladies, but this one for my thugs |
| Bleek: Where my thug niggas, slug niggas, tear the club niggas |
| My «I don’t give a fuck niggas.» |
| Both: It’s all love niggas |
| This goes out to my give head bitches, my suck pussy niggas |
| Supply cookie niggas |
| Yo I live for the sheets, I die for the sheets |
| And I got spit for beets, like I ride for my peeps |
| Yo I love this glamour shit, but bitch I been gutter |
| Before can I get it and double excel covers |
| I thought I heard somebody say they want some hardcore |
| I like everything from my dick to my bras raw |
| Now, is my street niggas no into this |
| Now, is my street bitches not into this |
| Wild loud like my thugs do up in the tunnel |
| You know the rock ??? |
| itchy finger the tussle |
| This territory locked, no more room in this hustle |
| Check the sound scan we getting platinum plaques and bundles |
| Verses I lye them down, they never die down |
| If the crowd rile down then fire another round |
| Jay-Z: I flow hard for the street, sicka for the club |
| Sometimes for the ladies, but this one for my thugs |
| Bleek: To my thug niggas, slug niggas, tear the club niggas |
| My «I don’t give a fuck niggas.» |
| Both: It’s all love niggas |
| [Beanie Sigel |
| I squeeze guns that’ll go through your jeep |
| You know I’m controllin the street |
| Beanie Sigel, Hove, and Bleek |
| I keep rope and a baby mack |
| Don’t get your ladies snatched |
| Comin out that baby gat |
| Fuckin with a crazy cat |
| I know you wanna lay me flat |
| Shit, plenty niggas wanna pay me back |
| Win on stick-ups turn thou' avalanche pick-ups |
| For the soft and the cooked up they lost when they looked up |
| Why you think I roll with the Roc? |
| Shit, everybody I roll wit Hash-E |
| Everybody I roll wit got |
| Ain’t stopping me from takin over blocks |
| West coast style, S.K. |
| with the shoulder stop |
| Order hour fifteen, I spur on your team |
| Four pound heckling cocked |
| Jeckle ya block, settin off Viper alarms |
| Strikin ya moms |
| Roc-a-fella dynasty gotcha right in their palms |
| Jay-Z: I flow hard for the street, sicka for the club |
| Sometimes for the ladies, but this one for my thugs |
| Bleek: To my thug niggas, slug niggas, tear the club niggas |
| My «I don’t give a fuck niggas.» |
| Both: It’s all love niggas |