Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song What Now, artist - San Quinn. Date of issue: 10.11.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
What Now |
| All my niggas in the ghet-ta |
| Acceptin no losses, no cheats an no let downs |
| Foul cats mess around get the wet down |
| In yo city |
| Leave yo whole turf shut down |
| (Sucka What Now?) |
| Verse 1 *(San Quinn)* |
| It’s lethal |
| The streets’ll take ya where ya don’t need to go |
| Ammunition |
| Bullet proof |
| Ghetto blastas slammin roofs |
| Straight loot an pursuit |
| To survive be bout politics |
| We not ruthless for suckas it’s bound to make me contradict |
| Conflict of intrest |
| Because my Mobb is relentless |
| Suckas don’t wanna see us in this or win this |
| Splended |
| Less suckas to worry bout |
| Broke niggas make the best crooks |
| Crossas an killas |
| More scrilla I accumulate |
| Enough to feed my reals |
| Not concerned about the murder rate so when I’m a get drilled |
| I be prayed up |
| Over raw |
| Wakin up’s enough for me |
| But when I rhyme my minds on the grind |
| Strictly hustlin |
| I’m back to bust |
| It should be lavishly surroundin |
| Naturally reboundin from the loss cuz you thought I was grounded |
| This how we do it |
| The truth gets screwed gets ??? |
| Me retire, the file wit ridas that remain at |
| Verse 2 *(Messy Marv)* |
| Bow down to the west world |
| In the bucket flossin wit yo best girl |
| Wanna turn up in the pearl |
| Now you muggin when you rollin by |
| Wanna get wet by the Tech cuz you lookin dry |
| Seen the hate up in yo eye |
| Be on the flight the next mornin |
| Suckas flex in Kanas, Seattle an Oregon |
| I got game |
| Doin thangs in 25 states |
| No condition we straight |
| Ammunition we hate |
| Kept it up in the case |
| Gangsta |
| In body armor |
| We rappers say «This is fake» when people’s quick to bomb on ya |
| An bet a dime on ya |
| Befo' ya make a false move |
| Then get lost in yo crew |
| Now they all boo-hoo |
| Ya stay in doo-doo |
| Fucked around an got flushed |
| Out of line |
| Out of time |
| Thinkin you can’t be touched |
| We quick to rush |
| Cuz suckas sit in concrete and calmly |
| Blow bomb-diggy on my way back to the big city |
| Verse 3 *(San Quinn)* |
| Respect |
| We check the neck |
| You next |
| Seff an Mess |
| Elliot finess |
| At yo front steps, God bless |
| Lyrics you fearin no non-sense we far fetched |
| Leave you outlined stretched |
| Wit yo mind wrecked |
| I Rolex, you Timex |
| Watchin time tick |
| If it rhyme hit yo target sucka |
| Accurate |
| My limits |
| Have no maximum |
| Mashin 'em |
| Runnin down the platinum |
| Half of 'em rappin |
| I be surpassin 'em |
| My squad do the job |
| Let them do rappin |
| They rob |
| We gon' survive |
| While you dispise |
| Frisco playas live |
| Eyes wide scopin |
| Hopin we ain’t touchin |
| Then we high rollin |
| High side wit our mouths open |
| Gold showin |
| I’m representin the playas an pimps |
| Playin simps |
| Pursuin mill tickets, bangin my hits |
| Still we kill 'em this is like 11-Feev (11/5) |
| Keep it real like the 6−9 Vill you suckas best believe |