Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Scared of Me, artist - Gangsta Blac.
Date of issue: 03.01.1999
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Scared of Me |
I, I, I think they scared of me |
I, I, I think they scared of me |
I think they scared of me |
I think they scared of me Shit walkin’through some razor blades, JB help me find my way |
Taylor B done slipped and made a poet wid a babyface |
Mastermind wid plenty game, shattered wid no sinners man |
Campin’lyrical out the deal just waitin’on some money man |
Screeler check my afterburn, shit I just had an ooze |
Made a quick maneuvre to enchance the dance I’m used to do Split up all your fuckin’word, cut dem from all in your back |
Platinum on my stat and trimmin’joanin’diamonds Gangsta Blac |
K-C-D we’re P-A-D, K-C I think it’s over wit |
Three Six grinnin’tap it up an artifact of rockin’shit |
Hate this shit, slap this bitch, dis the bitch just like it is |
'Quipped wid gamers think they doin’favours tryna knock a nig |
In this for a meal ticket, ain’t no time I gotta kick it But when this is over and I smile you cannot get about, |
Whoopin’lookin’thuggin’muggin’trillin’will, |
Blast and blastin', if you scared, |
Call the police and tell them watch your back |
Hook (2x) |
I keep my lyrics clocked on safety down to punish niggas daily |
Down to get off in your shit, bumpin’real hard like dicks |
?How been it? |
can’t fuck wit me, playa a capital P Light that ass man where’s the fire, dangerous wid M-I-C |
Technical diffi-culty, bump me out nigga no please |
Pass me some ah that green weed, I show you how buck I be, |
I am the bitch made nigga killa, |
I can’t stop til I make screeler nigga, go fuck around nigga, |
Cut up sideways deal wid my way nigga rock the town |
Stand my ground, romp around, nigga get 'em down, |
Easily, we’ll agree muh’fuckin’what they said |
Bloody red from your head, yeh I think they scared |
Nigga you scared cause when I blast your whole team fled |
Me and my niggas and glocks gon’leave your body soakin’wet, |
Kick, in, the, door, wit the 4−4, |
Terrified when I creep, from, the back hoe |
Kickin’down doors, peelin’wood up out the floor |
Doin’shows and fuckin’hoes, Taylor Babies and some Mo Father figure for a nigga daddy had to lay them low |
Clearly pushin’information like they hatin’on that joan |
Mentally I say disturb, troubled brain in this man |
I ain’t out to please, nah motherfucka in this game |
Just a fact and not a act, fuck wit claimin’but do you, |
Do the same chain gang, know my name, through and through |
Mr.Blac, on a mission takin’time, droppin’rhyme |
Thumpin’bumpin’backroom jumpin’sumthin’sumthin’for your mind |
No Versace straight up thug, no Cristal, drink a bub |
Like tonight maybe the mic gon’hype and place 'em where they were |
Dreamin’schemin’life ain’t right, every word done miss a beat |
Pen and papers once I got them halloweens and trick or treats |
Nigga uhh, nigga what, give a fuck, on tv, |
Gimme one, for some terror motherfucker he wid me Hook (til fade with different scratches and variations) |