Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Respect Da Shield, artist - U.S.D.A.
Date of issue: 31.12.2006
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Respect Da Shield |
Haha! |
You niggas wann' play, mayn? |
You niggas wann' war? |
We’ll take you to war! |
This tha shield mayn! |
C-T-E mayn! |
You dunno whatchu fuckin' wit! (Phureal) |
You niggas wann' play? — We got somethin' hot for ya |
Osama clips, we got a 100 shots for ya (Brrraa) |
USDA (Aye!), Respect Tha Shield! |
USDA (Aye!), Respect Tha Shield! |
You niggas wann' play? — We got somethin' hot for ya |
Osama clips, we got a 100 shots for ya |
USDA (Aye!), Respect Tha Shield! |
USDA (Aye!), Respect Tha Shield! |
It’s the shield, who wann' problems wit the 4 letters (Who?) |
Thunder storm, on ya block give ya bad weather (Hahaa) |
All black hoodie, all black gloves leather (Leather) |
MossBerg hitcha chest, lift ya like a feather (Suckas!) |
And I keep a clip of young truth’s fine (Brrraa) |
Bustin' at chya azz like them boys at Blood Dime (Blood Dime) |
Grimin' wit it, but tha boys stay shine (Sheeh!) |
Baby choppa' armor to jack it in the line (Talk to em') |
You gon' bump and I knock off ya face |
Witout the clippers nigga, you can get a fresh fade |
You loose-lipped niggas finn' to get buttoned up |
The Shield’s here nigga, time to straighten up (Phureal!) |
I’mma leave a man in an abandoned building, screamin' for The Lord |
No feet no hands and includin' a broken jaw (Yup!) |
Dress ya like a rapper so you don’t feel left out |
On the same shirt were got Kanye’s chest out (Woo) |
No goofy for the uzi, the semi-auto to mac 11 |
A.K. 47 leave his brains on the front yard |
Infront of ya daughter, ya son or his grandpa |
Hommies in the street deep, lookin' like a Trump squad |
I’mma kill 'em, just gimme a clip |
I got blue everywhere, like it’s revenge of The Crips |
Holes in ya body the size of a Bellagio chips |
Yeah Roccett Locc’s burner, boy as hot as it gets |
Gimme everythang nigga, this the 211 |
Run upon 'em, pull the pistol out, my .87 (Cla-Clack!) |
Blood money, yeah we cashin' out mills (Okayye!) |
Disrespect The Shield and get killed (Chyeah!) |
Nah, it ain’t a game dogg, it’s real in the field (Aye!) |
X amount of shells pop-a-nigga like a pill |
Top down on the old' school 'Ville |
Chromed hunned spokes on the mothafuckin' wheels |
Trapstar, I got work in the area (In the area!) |
United Streets D-Boyz of America (U-S-D-Ayy!) |
Betcha life tat the MossBerg’ll a bury ya (Bury ya!) |
They gone have to call a coroner to carry ya (Hahaa) |