Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song M.O.B., artist - Hussein Fatal. Date of issue: 23.03.1998
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
M.O.B. |
| Verse one |
| Im livin in hell, where all these niggaz |
| Got stories to tell, I be blasint on these bitch niggaz |
| Servin well, and the company I keep, be the scum of the earth |
| Body tated, hair matted, sellin keys if you fuck wit these |
| Law breakin niggaz scream, fuck the police |
| We gonna ball fo, the lil nigga shit |
| What the fuck you figure? |
| Timbaland boots, forty-fives wit nicket plates |
| Findin niggaz dead, bringem home and I cant wait |
| If niggaz is real, then they aint scared to split em All that job-ownin shit, fuck you, i aint witem |
| Cuz, when I say jump, niggaz say |
| How high? |
| or I stabb you in ya fuckin eye |
| Now lets get busy nigga |
| Yall niggaz, wanna ride tonight? |
| How many niggaz, in the house feel live tonight? |
| We get money over bitches, cuz we aint scared to die |
| Live and die by the code, theres on reason why (2x) |
| Verse two |
| Keep it comin, these niggaz get done in On any run in, I smrik and jerk, on any trigga |
| Puttin in work, then past it off, to my little man |
| Like he blast it off, beyond that,? |
| Criminile, genarile, wit ruff forty five cap |
| Endin ya whole stat, Im the master of this fuckin (fuck yall) shit |
| So Im a be buckin shit, ya dont know who you fuckin wit |
| Yall spaced out duckin quick, the number one parolly |
| Slap shots like a goalie, the forty glock like steel totin |
| Up shorty rocks, gettin money wit the forty cop |
| Verse three |
| Some niggaz, kinda of coke |
| Scared to bust, and I be lookin through ya ass like you |
| Plexey glass, so I send my pretty bitch |
| Swingin tits and ass, preal hander on her burner so she |
| Blastin fast, alot of niggaz know my rep, |
| But it dont mean shit, til you witness to yourself |
| How live it get, and I never let no rhymin ass bitch |
| Share a mic wit me, until I see her versatility |
| You get the fuckin picture, I swear by everythin spit in my rhymes |
| Its only hollow points I spit out my nine |
| Drillin niggaz on the block, when Im passin through |
| I bust six, in the air nigga, just for you |
| And if I ever get caught sleepin, which I ever doubt would happen |
| Id be the last nigga rappin, Ill keep my fuckin guns clappin |
| Whatever though, fake ass niggas will never know |
| Smellin they own shit, when I rip the berrta slow |
| The nine milly, the fake thuggs niggaz thats gettin silly |
| Blowinem and showinem, cuz my dogs dont knowem |
| I dont give a fuck, how small big and tall |
| Come get me, and I talk on how square yall are |
| Attack adicts, spray mattics, wit liquid |
| And the toughest on ya squad, cant ride wit bizniss |
| I dont know what these niggaz, be thinkin when they see me Niggaz call me whodni, blast and poof like a genie |
| I stack whack rappers, and stickem like cornerbacks |
| Yall niggaz is jumpin jackz, and bluffin on wax |
| Thinkin you can clown me, me and my little town we We lost niggaz, fo life, out here they cant drown me Ill be buried alive, the mic will dig me back up To tall for lust, I bend these bitches when I fuck |
| Muthafuckin m.o.b you aint seen shit yet, what |