| Look at my life, you ain’t ready to walk in my shoes
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| I was bruised in this game that’s why I stay with them tools
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| Got nothing to lose, cause shit ain’t workin' out for the kid
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| I had a deal over at Virgin, but they dropped the kid
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| How come, I don’t know, they wasn’t feelin' the kids
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| Or the music to hot for their ears to list'
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| Back to square one it’s all good, it ain’t gon' stop a nigga
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| Like have me do something stupid like go and pop a nigga
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| It’s a movie and I’mma be the star of this shit
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| With ten bitches at one time, suckin' my dick
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| We gon' get rich and kill them two cats, that snitch
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| IM3, bustin' they way, through this hip hop shit
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| So watch your lip, don’t say nothin' about my click
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| Or catch a clip, while you walkin' wit ya lady and shit
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| We crazy and shit, like chickens with their head cut off
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| We little niggas with big guns that’ll take your head off
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| And we rippin' your lady in the bathroom of the Green Acres Mall
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| Where gonna stand tall, we fall if a slug hit our chest
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| It’s all gravy, Queensbridge roll like the Navy
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| Little girls runnin' around havin' mad babies
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| Yo, ya’ll don’t a give a yeah, we don’t give a yeah
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| At the, end of the day, a slug’ll, ruin your liver
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| For real, on the strength of that automatic steel
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| So fast, you won’t have time to build
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| Ayo, we here foot in the door, time for take off
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| Yo, we take over, move over, IM3
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| And ya’ll niggas don’t really mean shit to me
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| Spread love through the five boroughs, tri-state mid-state
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| Violate, get your face carved in
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| Fuckin' with these Queensbridge marksmen
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| Never go against our grain, twenty tats, ball head cat, rep QB
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| See me on the stage iced out, laced up
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| Hazed up, jumping in them big ass trucks
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| When we shoot you better duck, you out of luck young’n
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| Catch you runnin' while we gunnin', chasin' you down like blood hounds
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| Beatin' you down, to the very last compound
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| With fo’four pounds, two aluminum bats, we ruin' you cats
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| We IM3 nigga you better move back, we fake no jacks
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| Jump real quick, we them Queens motherfuckers, that stay in that bullshit
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| Looking back at time, a lot of niggas died
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| Right before my eyes, suicide, homicide, do or die
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| My crew and I, pledge Infamous, don’t leave no witnesses
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| We handled all our differences, these menaces we livin' it
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| We’ve been gettin' it got it, Glock cock won’t hesitate
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| To empty out the whole clip, y’all niggas best notice
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| When it’s time and it’s bout to go down, we control the shit
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| Ain’t nobody in this whole, industry can hold us in
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| You can try, but you won’t succeed, we a rare breed
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| And don’t say much, cause, real niggas don’t speak
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| Amongst beef, my handle like, hot sauce
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| I take that on top boards, my action unaccountable
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| Could snap at any give time, doubting you
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| My raps steady pounding you, we drowning you with Infamous
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| The IM3 continuous, we livin' it, I speak from experience
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| He’s driven it, we M-O-B-B, QB, Murda Muzik
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| Yo, that’s that that shit, that I be, talkin' about
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| Niggas, playin' they hands wrong, runnin' they mouth
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| Snitchin', all up in they blood, I can’t click
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| There ain’t nothing to discuss, I only fuck with
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| Niggas raise with me, ain’t no time for new friends
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| Loose ends, take my gangsta to the grave with me
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| It’s all day with me, loyal to my dunns
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| Know it’s nothing, cowards breathe when we clappin' those guns |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song We Don't Give A..., artist - Infamous Mobb. Album song Special Edition, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп