Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Dusted & Disgusted, artist - Spice 1. Album song Hits II: Ganked & Gaffled, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 09.11.1998
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Thug World
Song language: English
Dusted & Disgusted |
I’m really not all that sure about when things is finna mature |
So let me find me a nigga with a grip |
And hit his ass quick with one of them licks |
What’s the definition of a lick? |
Takin' a nigga’s shit (ayy, put that on somethin') |
I put that on The Click, The Click |
Back to fuckin' work, one of the homies just got dusted |
Time to do some dirt, uh, I never trusted them bustas |
Shot him in the shirt, dead on arrival |
Now the town is funkin', it’s called survival |
What y’all wanna do? |
They got us skunked |
(Well if, uh, we can just, uh—) |
If it was a fifth, we’ll all be drunk |
I’m heated, them niggas cheated, played me false |
We had a meetin', shit 'posed to been squashed |
I noticed one killer on the double dribble and set him up, y’all |
She likes the Monie in the Middle, play tetherball |
Thick-ass bitch, high yellow city-slicker |
Scarecrow crevice something vicious, a.k.a. Posie Pussyfictitious |
See niggas don’t hold 'em guts |
But shit on theyself when the funk get’s real |
Pullin' out bills, frontin' on material shit |
That’s when I get to killin' shit (Killin' shit) |
And settin' him up and havin him catchin' a couple of slugs |
Slu-uh-slu-uh-slugs |
Tryna fuck with savage thug |
Pistol pop in they ass |
See, niggas be gettin' this twisted |
It’s that bitch that killed ya |
Took all your money, peeled ya |
Seven niggas bust in the room with AKs |
While a nigga be puttin' on his jimmy |
All of a sudden they shoot up your nutsack |
Before you can hit the broccoli |
See money-a-made that nigga, that nigga didn’t make that money |
Left them niggas jacked up, and the bitch she macked him |
He’s a busta, punk ass nigga, don’t know the streets |
That’s why that nigga naked layin' dead in between some bloody sheets |
It’s just a part of the game he didn’t feel |
Bitches will kill, fuck a nigga, out his last d-uh dollar bill |
You don’t know that ho, mayne, that bitch can’t be trusted |
Dusted and di-motherfuckin'-sgusted |
(Some cold hearted shit) |
Back to fuckin' work, one of the homies jus got dusted |
What y’all wanna do; |
what ya’ll wanna do? |
(Cold hearted bitches) |
Back to fuckin' work, one of the homies just got dusted |
What y’all wanna do? |
I never trusted them bustas |
(Some cold hearted shit) |
Back to fuckin' work, one of the homies jus got dusted |
I never trusted them bustas |
(And it’s them cold hearted nigga) |
Back to fuckin' work, one of the homies just got dusted |
Dusted and disgusted |
Let’s let off some 2O3s on the other side of t-uh-town |
Draw the attention on the other s-uh-side of town (other side of town) |
And wait for the po-po shift to change, ghetto shootin' range |
Revenge on the r-uh-rebound, war games |
Droughts, ouch, lost clientele but I will prevail |
By sellin' the broccoli dank instead of the crack cocaine trumps |
That steal narcotics |
When it’s funkin' season, bitches be the reason |
Why the smoke be coming up out the chop, with my nigga 'Pac |
Dear God, can you forgive me? |
(Uh) My future’s lookin' sick |
I’m in my rag hittin' switches, I’m suspicious of these bitches |
I keep on, calllin', but ain’t nobody (Uh) pickin' up |
I think she’s stallin', (Stallin') this evil bitch is tryin' to set me up (Uh) |
Came all alone—if it’s on, then it’s on (On) |
Bust my motherfuckin' chrome, on these jealous niggas' dome |
It’s a war zone (War zone) But I’m a man, so with gun in hand |
I’m on my way to see this ho, you know the fuckin' plan |
Can’t understand, but the things ain’t the same |
You could die over these bitches, if you slippin' in the game |
Niggas gangbang, (Gangbang)but bitches gangbang too |
Give up that good thang, nigga put that pistol to your brain (Uh) |
If you a smart figure, don’t have no love in your heart, nigga |
Any complications pull the trigger, dusted and disgusted |
Bitches can’t be trusted, you know the rules |
They underhanded, she planned it, you fuckin' fool |
(Richie Rich: These hoes out here tryin' to hold niggas hostage |
So a nigga get his muthafuckin' balls involved) |
(2Pac: Things happen when you turn these bitches upside down |
What’s gonna happen?) |
(Richie Rich: Uhh, three and a half dollars will probably fall up out a bitch |
pocket) |
(Mac Mall: Yeah, mayne, them hoes hella stupid |
They fuck with mo' MC’s than Jack the Rapper) |
(E-40: What you say, Mall? |
Ay, fuck them sheisty ass bootches, nigga) |
The California lifestyle (California lifestyle) that I live |
Where the bitches is (Uh) crooked and niggas just don’t give |
A flyin' fuck, so I stay stuck, smokin' on a Taylor |
Bay Area player, tryna have shit major |
And a bitch won’t save ya |
So I ain’t playin' Captain Save-a-Ho (Yeah) |
I mob up in ya (Uh) like a Brougham and then I’m gone |
I’m like Sylvester Stallone (Sylvester Stallone) |
Every day is like a Cliffhanger |
Action packed, I let the mini-mac sting ya |
Them hoes jacked that ass |
Nigga woulda got smokin' on that hash |
Can’t have my cash (Uh) Better go and take your nigga stash |
'Cause he’s a busta (Busta) Niggas with clusters, slippin' and shit (Yeah) |
Better jack that nigga 'fore I jack his ass, bitch (Yeah) |
Never was no love for the mark-ass, the lo pink (the lo pink) |
He let them bootsee bitches gank |
Can’t let them bootsee bitches gank that ass |
Better hide your cash and check her pass |
Pump your brakes, nigga; |
slow your roll, don’t go too fast |
'Cause bulletproof ain’t doin' no good no mo' no mo' no mo' no mo' |
Now, niggas comin' up dead with they brains blew out on the fuckin' floor |
Damn, hollow points to face, Teflon, through the vest |
Now r-uh-rest |
Pull the plug on the flatline, no puh-ulse, one nigga less |
One nigga less, from coast to coast, to the East to the West |
Fresh in the flesh, them bitches play the game of death |
Look over your shoulder, watch your back, don’t even trust it |
I’m tryna told ya, end up dusted |
(Some cold hearted shit) |
Back to fuckin' work, one of the homies just got dusted |
What y’all wanna do; |
what y’all wanna do? |
(Cold hearted bitches) |
Back to fuckin' work, one of the homies just got dusted |
What y’all wanna do? |
I never trusted them bustas |
(It's some cold hearted shit) |
Back to fuckin' work, one of the homies just got dusted |
I never trusted them bustas |
(And it’s them cold hearted nigga) |
Back to fuckin' work, one of the homies just got dusted |
Dusted and disgusted |