Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song N***** Done Started Something, artist - L.O.X..
Date of issue: 11.05.1998
Song language: English
N***** Done Started Something |
Hey yo let’s get papers and pop Mo’with hoes up in skyscrapers |
And Condominiums over-looking our drug capers |
New York City, the only way to play is gritty |
I want cheddar so we can front up in the eight fitty |
My whole committee like to puff L’s and look jiggy |
Who wanna test this? |
My semi leave you chestless |
There ain’t shit that you can say to me when you be breathless |
Young buttadundy shit that you won’t do So go ahead with that bullshit you blab about going through |
I got niggas who pump, on yo block and in yo spot |
But sit next to you protecting you but murder you player |
Don Status, nigga we getting chipseses |
And bad bitcheses frontin’in flickseses |
Yo Mase and The Lox we taking knots from the outta state spots |
Any nigga make it hot get found in vacant lot |
You don’t really wanna come try the one guy |
Who stay dumb high from blunt lie |
To ??? |
alumnight |
We got more beef than an atomic bomb |
So I pack enough sonic arms to neutralize atomic bombs |
There’s not a nigga in your gang want it My AK slay gays and spray strays with niggas names on it Often not bugs and much softer than thugs |
Have a chump coughin blood fill his coffin with slugs |
Yo You know I got enough guns to wreck a nation |
Any nigga wave a tech in Mase and, Have and explanation |
You bring your crew in em I’m doing em Then I’m Beating em down with aluminium |
Then I’m putting two in em You can’t touch me I’ve been Devil sinned |
Wanted for imbesslement |
A lot of other things but that’s irrelavent |
If you love the money, then prepare to die for it Niggas done started something |
You can lay in the plains or hug the sky for it Niggas done started something |
Yo, check out the kid that get coke like Sosa |
Never turn down Chocha We in the Costa |
Rica, sippin Margarittas with a mommy |
Clinged to Tommy, showing love to my army |
Whenever the Lox find Ricky Blocks we kill him |
Yeah I hear niggas but I still don’t feel em This is for the listeners and prisoners |
And them jealous rap cats that prefer dissing us My 16's be so real |
You can feel em in your vein like the mellow pops from Sugar Hill |
Jay be the cause for the kiss that you wait |
Cartel lift spittin clips at yo face |
We started from the bottom, you don’t see bad niggas pardon |
Whatever we can do it at the garden |
Word life, this shit is real B |
I’m making niggas blow trials even if they not guilty |
I want a palace for my thugs, with oriental rugs |
Green back for drugs get waxed for the love |
20 niggas batter me, still couldn’t shatter me |
I’m only getting up, splitting up yo anatomy |
Official Lox family, grants niggas handing me I want the finer things and I hope you understanding me Sitting at the table plan in the club then fanning |
Let the sweat dry off and then grab the cannon |
Think the smartest and retaliate the hardest |
Regardless, if you a thug or a rap artist |
Respect me like Pesci, and If rap was hockey |
I’d be Gretski, puffin Nestle |
And ya’ll niggas done started something |
Acting invincible like you god or something |
If you god, then I’ma mix a lot until you rot |
And if you a player then play for everything you got |
And if you a thug then start busting off shots |
And if you a dogg you better bite before you bark |
Don’t come at me with no bullshit, use caution |
Cuz when I wet shit I dead shit Like abortions, for bigger portions |
Of exortion and racket hear it, rap niggas fear it Fuck what you heard it’s what you hearing |
How much darker must it get? |
How must harder must it hit? |
See if ya hardest niggas flip, When I start a bunch of shit |
I like pussy, but not up in my face, So give me 3 feet |
Cuz when we creep, no more then 3 deep, niggas see sheet |
Let hell stand yo shit burried in the mud |
Following traces of gun powder, residue, and blood |
A positive ID is impossible, So you know, John Doe |
Is what they gonna be putting on that tag on yo toe |
Now who gonna tell yo mother her baby’s under a cover in the morgue |
Stiff as a log, sniffed out by the dogs |
Another hard headed nigga that wouldn’t listen |
So you got, what you came for, surgery, with the chainsaw |
I hit the fucking streets just like I said before |
Ain’t nothing going down until I eat |
Motherfuckers think it’s all about impressing bitches |
And stressing bitches, While I’m testing bitches game |
Undressing bitches and caressing bitches |
And dealing with motherfuckers on all levels |
What I’m dealing with is all devils |
Fucking mistakes, runnin with niggas you call rebels |
I got an army of 7−30 niggas dirty niggas |
It’s tough to worry niggas thrity niggas that like to bury niggas |
And scary niggas get all the time, and what they got is all of mine |
Ya never talked this shit until I pull the nine |
And if I don’t know you I don’t fuck with you |
And if you with my man, then he getting stuck with you |
And gave me the money, cuz I just lost my mind |
When he crossed the line, spit this back to his chest |
Then I tossed the nine |
Forced the crime, black ghotti, I stack bodies |
With the black shotti and jab niggas that act knotty |