| Yo! |
| Turn that shit up, word up!
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| Afficial Nasty Niggas… Fuck Dat!
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| Ya niggas is dead-ass!
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| Know what I’m sayin'?
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| We’re payin’my niggaz 'All City 'n shit!
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| Word up! |
| Yo Mega, Fuck Dat!
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| Rip that Brooklyn shit nigga!
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| What? |
| What? |
| What? |
| What? |
| What? |
| What?
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| My fleet goals, by da creep cold
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| We blaze, y’all won’t see those, you just feel 'em
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| We raise the states in this game, like helium
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| The new millenium, got me in mo’for killin''em
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| Green backs, I want a mil (of) 'em!
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| But don’t minimum, strictly max out, the ol’s put the black out
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| Niggaz be frontin', we take the back rob
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| Now stay with that style, original, wanna act wild?
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| City puttin’cartracks out, as we stack now
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| We’re nuthin’to match out, formula
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| See it clearly through my corner-ya
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| This goes out to niggas on the corner, Mega’s on ya Rap performer, no diploma, I’m sippin’on Corona, keep my carpet Coma
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| The East New York Soldier, what?
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| (Fuck Dat! That’s the All City shit!
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| Yo Greg Valentine!)
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| The beats be Rushen like Patrice
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| You better had that bulletproof vest under ya fleece
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| Then a clever sceam up ya slees, we has to say da least
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| Between the thugs and the police, shit’ll never be peace
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| Cause holiday, raise ya weights ya hourly rate
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| We poly for higher states, buyin’fire escapes
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| See this, criminal life is like a 'roll it in dice'
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| Niggaz holdin’they ice, wild bust on a slice
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| Yo it’s too often too hot, in this ghetto meldin’pot
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| Put out these fagat ass niggas try to steel what I got
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| As if, that ain’t enough, for Jakes is ratin’the spot
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| Where we eat at, but tonight that’s where they bleed at That belone her with the flame, throwin’their rain, it’s over
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| Prayed to Jehova, jiggaz up, the game’s over
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| (All City what, All City what?! Fuck Dat!
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| Yo Sticky) (Come here nigga, Fuck Dat!
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| Let these muthafuckaz know nigga!!!)
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| (Afficial Nast! What?!!)
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| Oh ooh, here the thug come, from out the dungeon
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| Say goodbye to ya love one, you can’t run from, the dum-dum
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| Kickin’WACK SHIT! |
| I cut out ya tongue son!
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| I’m in this rap shit for the lump sum
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| Hit the stage as soon as the blunt’s done
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| YOU DON’T WANT NONE! |
| But regardless
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| We the wildest, you get demolished
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| I muthafuckin', muthafuckin’murder, want charges!
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| Walkin’targets, kill any rap artist!
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| Still hate ya GUTS!, and hope that ya DIE!
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| If you not a ally, then yo ass gotta fry
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| Two lifes for a life without no remorse
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| You fucked up BIG TIME, you should’ve finished me off nigga!
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| (What?! Fuck Dat! Fuck Dat!
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| Afficial Nast what up?!
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| Yo Lefty, I got a new nigga for ya niggaz!
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| Yo Fuck Dat! |
| Step up and shit…)
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| I roll with gat-swingers, that bay arms like tanktops
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| A bunch of problem bringers, that an ass bet ya wanna make your bank stop
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| Guaranteed to make ya block hot, we runnin’the spots
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| We’re tired of jizzle 'n rocks, we straight up fuckin’in villains or jachts
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| Got the Big Apple on smash like mobbs, we’re livin’hell really?!
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| So we just vanish 'n rob, paper tellin’me we all dyin’from a leg docs (?)
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| So fuck it, it’s even get it get-got, so what?!
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| Bring it, I’m closin’now shut, I don’t give a FUCK about gettin’popped
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| Them thugs probably heard, left these two guns is al lot!
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| It’s my time to go, playa, I’m tryin’to go spittin’you
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| For the dolies, niggaz just press G-O
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| While shoot outs, reachin’for the glocks, on my way to gettin’drugs
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| Still spittin’ya, 3−60 pill, I was drugged up, in a sixth still SHITTIN’ya
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| Call it murder, besides anybody TRY to here missin'
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| (Fuck Dat! Yo X -1 nigga!)
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| (Ya betta fuckin’do this shit nigga!)
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| (Fuck Dat! Afficial Nasty Niggas!
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| Fuckin’takin’this streets! |
| That niggas is dead!)
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| All you crack niggaz, I don’t even like your style
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| If it wasn’t for love, you be dead right now
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| Speak upon the gun nor, X is layin’it down
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| Dirty two rounds, sprayin’ya town
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| Takin’dirt back under the ground, be a man, take ya laws
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| Die with the sacred course, six’s bein’deep on the basic floors
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| (They hate that shit nigga! What?!
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| Kick the our fuckin’shit! |
| Fuck Dat!)
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| Be a hard rock and see where you end up 'bout
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| Before my hart stops, kid I’m tryin’to see some jacks
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| You better get dropped dog, just read the facts |
| Dig a gunshot, at least about bringin’you back
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| I run in cold spots, or walk that for liquid cats
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| X critical source, with criminal thoughts, under the physical laws
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| Your visual lost, X-million now, nigga tripple the course
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| I cripple your boss, what?!!
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| Fuck Dat! |
| Afficial Nast nigga!
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| Fuck Dat! |
| Afficial Nast nigga!
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| Fuck Dat! |
| Fuck Dat! |
| Afficial Nast nigga!
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| Fuck Dat! |
| Afficial Nast nigga!
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| Word up! |
| Fuckin’All City!
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| Muthafuckin’Onyx!
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| Muthafuckin’Fredro Starr talkin’to you nigga!
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| Fuckin’Sonsee nigga! |
| What da fuck is up?!
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| Yo Sticky, wassup nigga?! |
| Gangreen in this muthafucka!
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| Bubba Smith 'n shit! |
| Back da fuck up, everybody up!
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| My nigga too dirty up in this muthafucka! |
| (Know what I’m sayin?!)
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| DJ LS, Afficial Nast nigga! |
| Fuck any DJ, yo Fuck Dat! |
| (Any DJ nigga!
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| Afficial Nast!)
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| Word up, Fuck Dat! |
| Niggaz don’t know! |
| My muthafuckin’broher is sayin', Fuck Dat!
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| Big Chris, Fuck Dat! |
| Niggaz ain’t seein’shit! |
| Afficial Nast! |
| Yo eat 'em up!
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| Get da fuck up outta here! |
| (*Car rushin’away*) |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Fuck Dat, artist - Onyx. Album song Shut 'Em Down, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп