Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Only in The Studio, artist - Nefarious
Date of issue: 28.02.2000
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Only in The Studio |
Fat niggas puttin shit up in the game |
Livin off the fame of the Garden Blocc name |
But never did dirt or put in no work |
They be rappin like they g’s |
Talkin bout maccin bitches and slangin ki’s |
But please you a ho |
No need to play the role like you ain’t kowin that |
Go look in the mirror, you won’t see no gangsta starin bacc |
Based on that fact I’m let it be known |
Gotta tell the homies what really goes on nigga |
(You mutha fuccas) |
You don’t even know how to load a nine |
You seen your homie do some dirt and went and wrote a rhyme |
But how you talkin bout bein a killa and never made a niggas brain hang |
You sayin you a loc but never gang banged |
Nigga you ought to win an Oscar |
«The Best Actor of the Year» you ain’t no mutha fuccin mobsta |
You faker than Cubic Zarconia |
Givin a bad reputation to niggas in Killafornia |
We puttin bustas in hearses |
Why you marks be bombin on base heads and snatchin bitches purses |
That punk shit, but nigga you think you so a hard |
That’s why thay X-Raided loc be pullin ho calls |
(X-Raided) |
You a gang bangin nigga |
Hustla, mutha fuccin psycho, loco, but only in the studio |
Rappin like you real |
Talkin bout how you kill niggas |
Let the truth be told, it’s only in the studio |
Gang bangin nigga |
Hustla, mutha fuccin psycho, loco, only in the studio |
Rappin like you real |
Talkin bout how you kill niggas |
Let the truth be told, only in the studio |
(T-Macc) |
I grab cash plus guns |
Roll with old you gets done for the buns |
And we four for the door |
It’s time for roll |
And you done crossed the wrong line |
And I couldn’t forgive myself |
For tellin your ass one more time |
Now grab your ski and be on the grind |
On a paper chase |
Lace up your boots |
And shoot for the skrill from the gate |
And you betta make hate |
Cuz it ain’t no time or minor race |
I ride with realas and killas from day one and stay no face |
Murder ones, protect identities |
And murder twos, to kill off all these studio g’s |
Everybody claimin to be a gangsta in the boot |
When it’s time to ride they ducc and hide these niggas scared to shoot |
Ain’t never seen you on the streets |
And you don’t want to fucc with us cuz we real mutha fuccin P-C's |
Blacc Market soldiers takin over, still slangin yola |
We realas up in this shit nigga somebody should of told ya |
(Mr. Doctor) |
Yeah nigga… |
Yeah Doc… |
What, what, you neva had me though |
Creased blue kakies with blue laces in them blue kiccs |
You never strolled the blocc with them true crips |
Niggas like you round the locs is through |
Bitch nigga swallow a dicc, that’s why you getting ran through |
Straight trippin you could claim my blocc |
You never hanged with the crips and never rang no Gloccs |
Mo like a succa, but figure now a nigga would know |
When you slip around and through settrip, it’s like walkin death row |
Now you see but you seen to late |
Mutha fucca, you slit like a clit cuz your ass is fake |
(You don’t wanna slang, you don’t wanna gang bang) |
You can’t crip walk then don’t let your gat talk |
(You don’t wanna slang, you don’t wanna gang bang) |
I never seen you on the spot |
Never seen you with a Glocc |
That’s how real gangstas roll |
Dippin old schools and rags |
Holiday and X-Raided loc |
(Chorus to end) |