Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Whatever It Took, artist - X-Raided. Date of issue: 21.09.2009
Song language: English
Whatever It Took |
| Hey Dott Dogg… muthafucka was out there in them streets |
| Nigga did whatever it took to get in nigga |
| From the jackin', to the rappin', to the slangin' crack and… |
| First Verse: |
| X-Raided up in this bitch, bout to disrupt some shit |
| Ain’t from the pound, but I’m still down to Kurupt some shit |
| Interrupt your shit, cuz I’m always in a rush to spit |
| Like an axe, when I rap, I splitter up your clique |
| You better relax, be a witness or a participant |
| Eddie Gaffin' laughin' at the CO, wonder where the Sergeants went |
| See we flow, but it’s way more bigger than that |
| Ransom note, deliver the gats and all them wack ass tracks |
| So we slit his throat, it’s malicious, but the game’s vicious |
| And niggas know, we’ll do anything that gains us riches |
| We quick to flow, but we just as quick to bark that heat |
| Start that beef and Dott Dogg will pause that heartbeat |
| We hard to beat, like Schwarzanegger in movies bout factual |
| Burning niggas like third degree |
| Critical surgery |
| When I’m mad, you hoes burglary, intrudin' your home |
| Stole everything like clepto includin' your dome |
| Left your ass chewed up, gaze blast, mid-section blew up |
| Bet you all five homicide detectives threw up |
| Suit up, in coca sacks then I smoke a bag |
| They make me get my focus back, then I choke the gat |
| When it came to gettin' that money I did whatever it took |
| Fuck dividin' the power, wanted every cranny and nook |
| Understand me nigga, my family is full of thugs and crooks |
| Kings and queens protected by knights, bishops, and rooks |
| Second Verse: |
| You better look into my eyes, can’t you see the pain? |
| I’m tired of lies, bitches and niggas playin' games |
| This is my ghetto prayer, Lord can you hear me? |
| Protect my family from player haters, don’t let 'em near me |
| No need to fear me, I’m only human |
| Pursuin' dreams for greenbacks with more schemes, than J.R. Ewing |
| I mean that sincerely |
| Love my alcohol and tetrahydracanebanol dearly |
| Consumin' twenty pounds yearly |
| Clearly I’m out for the cash, nothin' else in my vision |
| Takin' chances, makin' decisions that could keep me in prison |
| But circumstances keep demandin' me to break these laws |
| Writin' lyrics strong enough to, penetrate these walls |
| Dott Dogg, don't feel I’m guilty |
| As charged, I’m filthy really |
| Down for the cause, and I’m comin' raw til' they kill me feel me |
| With slugs to the dome, ain’t no love so it’s on |
| And if you ain’t thuggin' with me nigga, then I’m thuggin' alone |
| I’m a ruggish bone like Bizzy, Wish, Krayzie, Layzie and Flesh |
| Art of War to the last breath, nigga ride to the death |
| We hardcore, Dott Dogg and Nefarious |
| Mad man, Black Market til' they bury us |
| Third Verse: |
| I’m constricted on y’all ass like a python |
| I’m ready to spit some venom, turn this mic on |
| Run up in em |
| Checkin' them niggas like a chess board |
| Cuz they be hatin', what’cha think I sport a vest for? |
| Premeditatin' |
| Yes Lord I got my eye on’em |
| When they try to get me I’ma have a fat surprise for 'em |
| Got some advice for 'em |
| You better recognize, Raided ain’t down for none of that bullshit |
| Got a full clip, and this man eater won’t hesitate to pull it |
| And deliver the bullets to your chest like a mailman droppin' off letters |
| Fat hole in your sweater |
| Smash out with all your cheddar |
| Met a nigga that had much game, deeper than the abyss |
| Taught me such thangs as how to get fame and keepin' cash in my fist |
| Now I insist to get my scrilla scratch |
| How real is that? |
| And I’m quick to peel a niggas cap |
| Is you feelin' that? |
| Move swiftly when I see the cops, cuz I ain’t scrillin' |
| Muthafuckas wanna see me drop, but I ain’t willin' |
| You a pawn in my book |
| Busta market a hook |
| Saw the fear in your eyes the first time that I looked |
| I’ma treat y’all niggas like powdered cocaine it’s time to get cooked |
| I’m Michael Jordan, you the average guard about to get shook |