Lyrics Clicked Up - T-Rock

Clicked Up

It ain’t no fist fights
It ain’t no one-on-one
Nigga we clicked up
So come and get ya some
Niggas get hauled off
Lit up and hit with twos
For hoes who outta line
Bitches can get it too
My niggas zoned out
Granted that’s dad on dad
Strapped up with milli rounds
Dipped in that black on black
We in the trap with sacks
Quick to attack with gats
Shoot up your concert
Shout at your platinum plaque
I’m in the platinum Jag
Twisting a bag of hash
After that madame blast
My nigga that’s your ass
Deader than patch of grass
This is the aftermath
Forensics trynna crack the case and reenact the past
Don’t make me act a clown
I’m drinking Jack and Crown
I got a chopper, that’s the biggest battle axe in town
My nigga ask around
This is the battleground
If ye ain’t rady then retreat or gt to stand em down
Load up the mag and cock it
It’s getting catastrophic
Don’t get your ass demolished
Soon as that plastic popping
Niggas get hauled off
Lit up and hit with twos
For hoes who outta line
Bitches can get it to
{Verse 2: Area 51]
Nah, nah
If I want saucing with me
Know my niggas took them thangs
Suckers calling violations, know my niggas busting brains
Whoop, catch’ll drop your ass
Like the ash on Mary Jane
Bama gorilla rider precise when that desert aim
The diamond in the black night
Cheefing in the late night
Got this soldier flow to make you push a nigga back now
The hardest that’s a fact nah
To who is for a plaque now
Repping for my gangsters on the block with respect nah
But you really want niggas on your block
Ready to rumble like Michael Buffer
Killing all and on the spot
We keep more metal than Midas Mufflers
I’mma let this frustration loose
The all rotted wasted juice
Y’all can hate
The truth inferned eternally like Satan’s truth
To all these motherfuckers on the Earth
Shit’s by birth bout that
This rubber nature trying to get paid what I’m worth
Placing all haters on respirators
Black balling can’t stop the show
The fifty-one's about to blow
My hustle and my flow gon have me seeing that Kevin Costner door
Now you know
I’m usually on for that pimping that my player profits
But Seldom C known to keep many rockets up off the chopper
To think I’d release the whole world has gotta be under my siege
Cause when a nigga speak it’s like instant death to my enemies
Homework please
If you really think that you can fuck with me I
Gotta sideways aim that’d do you niggas something crucially
.54 desert eagle is risky
But it’s with me
So you pussy niggas don’t tempt me
Leave a hole the size of wide as
Why these niggas wanna bother me
More like me a player
What you oughta be
Dropping me you stand a better chance of hitting the lottery
Come follow me to colic Pete
Where the Gs and ballers be
And all you see is choppers that we use to crush your colony
I’m obviously out of your league
Ever since 3 I’ve been a problem see
You bitches’ll bleed
Fucking with me
Cause partner logically y’all probably the realest out of all the Gs
This gangster shit ain’t for you man
Why don’t you take up pottery
And for bread
Got something that’ll make you out of a believer
You can’t be serious if you think I’m an underachiever
Involved in so many circles
Call me Lord of The Ring
This is not a dream
This my team
As big as it seems
Unexpected smoke in all the mountains like an A-Bomb
Once we hit the ground
Let’s watch to see where the roaches scatter from (where they at?)
Stomping on so many haters now my toe aches
But I don’t mind
It’s just the risk that I have to take
Oh no
We done done it again
The money spent it boys
T-Rock and a couple of friends
You got some anger with me boy
Well fuck on me then
I guarantee ya I would leave ya blind just like the wind
We some certified riders
Repping hard for the south
So if you don’t know nothing bout us keep your name out your mouth
We come from deep off in the club
We invading your space
You wouldn’t think that we some gangsters from the look on our face
Boy
[Verse 8: Infra-Red[
Carbon 15 sparking that’s your sawed offs walking at you bitches
Bitches twisted for spitting
The medics hauling off yo chickens
Knees knocking
Heart pumping, Kool-Aid cause we in the club
Status of a Queen
Niggas got your spleen for the dub
Keep my hands clean
Get my feet dirty if I’m pissed
Take a Miss and stomp her out her outfit for popping lips
Bitch we popping clips
Made believers out your skeptics handguns with bullet drums
That burn worse than antiseptic
You don’t really wanna see me come down
Cause me and my guys we cock them hammers
You don’t wanna see your body end up in the middle of a cornfield here in
Indiana
C-Mob is a killer for real
Gorilla in the field
Never will the syllables yield
I give a fuck if you got a nine milli to wield
I got skrilla to build
A couple mills sitting in it to build
I never chill so I get in my feel
The more feel that I’m fitting to kill
I bet you’re gritting your grill
Cause you’re scared of the area
Fuck with my fam I don’t care I will bury ya
If you want it then you better bring a week
We finna leave everyone in the grid stressed
Cause Area 51's expanded through the Midwest
It ain’t no fist fights
It ain’t no one-on-one
Nigga we clicked up
So come and get ya some
Niggas get hauled off
Lit up and lit with twos
For hoes who outta line
Bitches can get it too